LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 
SAN  DIEGO 


THE    HEART    OF   JAPAN 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

GLIMPSES  OF  LIFE  AND  NATURE 
FAR  FROM  THE  TRAVELLERS'  TRACK 
IN  THE  LAND  OF  THE  RISING  SUN 


BY 


CLARENCE   LUDLOW  BROWNELL 

Fellow  Royal  Geographical  Society 

Fellow  of  the  Society  of  Arts 
Member  of  the  Japan  Society  of  London 


ALDI 


NEW    YORK 

McCLURE,    PHILLIPS    &    CO. 
MCMIV 


Copyright,  1903,  by 
McCLURE,   PHILLIPS  &  CO. 

Published,  September,  1903,  N 


THIRD  IMPRESSION 


TO 

CURTIS    BROWN 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

WE  lived  so  far  from  the  travellers'  track  in 
Japan, — often  where  no  foreigner  had  been 
before, — and  had  seen  and  heard  so  much  of 
what  seemed  to  us  humorous,  tragic,  quaint,  or  thought- 
worthy,  that  we  dared  to  believe  sometimes  that  we  were 
getting  glimpses  of  the  real  inner  spirit  of  the  native 
life — a  spirit  far  different  from  that  of  the  tourist-worn 
borders  of  this   ancient   and   fascinating  Land   of   the 
Rising  Sun. 

Whether  or  not  we  are  flattering  ourselves  unduly, 
the  five  years  that  one  of  us  spent  in  the  interior  of 
Japan,  sometimes  teaching  English  in  the  Government 
schools,  sometimes  idling,  always  living  as  the  natives 
live,  were  crowded  with  joyous  entertainment. 

In  striving  to  reproduce  some  faint  tint  of  this  charm, 
it  seemed  wisest  to  present  each  episode  or  impression  sep- 
arately— here  a  personal  experience,  there  a  story  heard 
in  some  peasant's  hut  or  among  the  temples,  or  from 
some  old  warrior  of  the  feudal  days,  and  again  a  ven- 
tured comment,  picturing  different  phases  of  the  life  of 
Japan,  one  after  another,  as  on  a  screen — seemingly  de- 
tached, perhaps,  yet  knit  together  by  the  underlying 
desire  to  present  the  native  point  of  view. 

JAPAN  SOCIETY, 

20  HANOVER  SQUARE, 
LONDON,  W. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAQK 

I.  KONO  Hrro  AND  THE  PRAYER-PUMP,    ...  3 

H.    O  TOYO  SAN 14 

III.  OUR  LANDLORD, 19 

IV.  IN  THE  KINDERGARTEN  DAYS,      ....  29 
V.    THE  HONORABLE  BATH, 43 

VI.    THE  AUGUST  DEPARTURE, 50 

VII.  THE  GUEST  WHO  COULD  NOT  Go,       ...  56 

VIII.    THE  OBEDIENT  BED 61 

IX.    ONE  WHO  WON, 71 

X.    THINKING  IN  JAPANESE, 76 

XI.    Bo  CHAN, 88 

XII.    O  Jo  SAMA 100 

XIII.  HAPPY  NEW  YEAR, 113 

XIV.  THOSE  WHO  SIGN  CHITS, 120 

XV.  THE  CENSOR  AND  THE  CRAFTY  EDITOR,      .        .126 

XVI.    BOBBY, 137 

XVII.  PLAYHOUSES,  PLAYERS,  AND  PLAYS,    .       .       .  141 

XVIII.    "Music,"        . 151 

XIX.  BLOSSOMS  ALWAYS  IN  BLOOM,        ....  157 

XX.    SIGNS  OP  THE  TIMES, 163 

XXI.    Bows  AND  BALLOTS 171 

XXII.    THE  FLOWERS  OP  TOKIO, 175 

XXIII.  IN  TRADE 180 

XXIV.  DIVING  BELLES 193 

XXV.  AMONGST  THE  GODS,     .*....  200 

XXVI.  ON  THE  EARTHQUAKE  PLAN,        .  212 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

PAGI 

XXVII. 

MISSIONARIES  AND  MISSIONARIES, 

.    221 

XXVIII. 

GILDED  WITH  OLD  GOLD,      .... 

.    238 

XXIX. 

AND  so  HE  BECAME  A  SAINT,     . 

.    242 

XXX. 

250 

XXXI. 

KADE  WOULD  ADVENTURE, 

.    253 

XXXII. 

256 

XXXIII. 

THE  SPORTSMAN  IN  JAPAN, 

.    266 

XXXIV. 

THE  FATHER  OF  THE  VILLAGE,  . 

.    276 

XXXV. 

THE  THEFT  OF  THE  GOLDEN  SCALE,  . 

.    283 

XXXVI. 

291 

XXXVII. 

THE  REVERENCE  OF  KATO,          ,       ,       . 

.    298 

LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


The  Gardens  of  the  Old  Temple  .         .         .          Frontispiece 

.FACING 
PAGE 

Itsukushima  (or  Miyajima),  Aki  .  .  .  .  .16 
Nichiyobi  was  Our  Home  Day  .  .  .  .  .56 
Japanese  Nurses  Carry  Babies  on  Their  Backs  .  .  92 
The  Game  of "  Kitsune  "  Fox  .  .  .  .  .96 

"  Kitsune  Ken "  . 98 

Japanese  Girls  at  Home         .          .          .          .          .          .110 

A  Samurai  with  Prisoner       .          .          .          .          .          .138 

Gakunin       .          .          .          .          .          .          .          .          .152 

In  Japan  Everyone  is  Always  Entertaining  Someone      .  158 
A  Geisha      .........   160 

Signs  of  the  Times       .         .         .          .         .         .         .166 

Tokio 176 

Pagoda  at  Temple  Horuji,  Nara    .    •     .         .         .         .192 

Goku  Temple        ........  200 

The  Gateway  of  the  Miya,  Shinto  Temple     .         .         .  202 

The  Tera  or  Buddhist  Temple 204 

The  Famous  Dragon  Fountain  .....  206 
Amida,  the  Buddha  .  ....  208 

The  Effects  of  an  Earthquake 218 

Here  Hideyoshi,  the  Taiko,  Drank  His  Tea  .         .          .  240 

The  Old  Stone  Bridge .254 

Night-fishing  in  Japan 274 

Temple  of  Kiyomidzu,  Kiyoto 284 


THE   HEART    OF   JAPAN 


CHAPTER  ONE 

KONO  HITO  AND  THE  PRAYER-PUMP 

GARDNER  and  I  met  Kono   Hito  the  first  time 
we  went  up  the  west  coast.     He  was  the  thriftiest 
man  in  Japan.     Even  taken  together  we  did  not 
compare  with  him  in  thrift. 

He  lived  near  a  temple  less  than  one  hundred  "  ri  " 
from  Kanazawa.     If  he  had  been  farther  from  the  tem- 
ple he  would  have  been  just  as  close,  but  he  might  not 
have  discovered  the  fact  to  the  world,  nor  have  wasted 
away  on  account  of  his  unlovely  trait. 

Kono  Hito  was  a  farmer.  Like  most  native  farmers, 
he  raised  rice.  To  do  so  he  had  to  have  water,  and 
plenty  of  it,  enough  to  cover  thousands  of  "  tsubo,"  as 
the  Japanese  say.  (A  "  tsubo  "  is  the  size  of  two  mats, 
or  thirty-six  square  feet.)  He  owned  some  fifty  fields, 
lying  side  by  side.  They  were  small  and  fenceless; 
only  low  ridges  of  earth  marked  the  boundaries  of  the 
fields,  and  these  ridges,  when  the  rice  had  grown,  were 
lost  to  view.  At  the  time  of  planting  they  would  be 
mushy,  but  at  harvest  time  they  would  become  dry  and, 
hard,  so  that  a  man  could  walk  along  them  easily  if  he 
had  occasion. 

Kono's  way  of  cultivating  them  was  to  throw  seed 
rice — that  is  rice  kernels  in  the  shell — over  the  surface 
1 1  ri  =  about  2j^  miles. 

[3] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

of  his  ponds,  where  it  sprouted,  and  wove  into  a  tan- 
gled mat  of  deep,  rich  green.  When  the  rice  blades 
were  six  inches  long,  and  had  well-formed  roots,  he 
would  disentangle  them,  and,  gathering  them  in  clus- 
ters, would  plant  them  in  the  mud  at  two-foot  intervals, 
along  rows  two  feet  apart  and  parallel.  This  made  the 
rows  regular,  like  the  lines  of  a  checker  board,  with  a 
bunch  of  rice  wherever  two  lines  crossed.  The  board 
itself  was  all  water  at  first,  and  had  to  remain  water  until 
nearly  time  for  harvest,  for  Kono  Hito  grew  swamp  rice 
only.  He  said  there  was  no  money  in  upland  rice.  It 
was  too  hard,  and  would  not  sell  for  the  cost  of  grow- 
ing it. 

A  drought,  therefore,  was  about  as  bad  a  thing  as 
could  happen  to  Kono  Hito.  He  must  have  water  or  go 
to  the  money  lenders,  and  once  he  went  to  them  there 
would  be  no  end  of  going  until  they  had  possession  of 
his  rice-fields.  Kono  Hito  knew  the  fate  of  borrowers 
full  well,  and  to  save  himself  from  such  calamity  he  built 
dams  above  his  fields  to  make  reservoirs,  he  dug  ditches 
from  one  field  to  the  other,  and  he  observed  the  Bud- 
dhist fast  days.  In  spite  of  all  this,  however,  his  crops 
turned  yellow  earlier  than  those  of  his  neighbor  Sono 
Hito,  the  rice  grower  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  road 
— a  highway  that  passed  between  their  paddy-fields  and 
led  to  the  temple  and  beyond. 

"  Trouble  indeed !  "  said  Kono  Hito  as  he  came  along 
this  road  in  his  jin-riki-sha  one  day.  "What  shall  we 
do?  "  But  though  he  spoke  to  himself  of  trouble,  and 
asked  himself  how  to  avoid  it,  he  did  not  talk  out  loud. 

[4] 


KONO    HITO 

He  sought  to  succeed  by  keeping  more  fast  days,  work- 
ing harder  in  his  fields,  building  tiny  shrines,  like  dolls' 
houses,  at  his  reservoirs,  and  bringing  the  household 
economy  down  to  such  a  fine  point  that  Okusama,  his 
wife,  dared  not  lose  so  much  as  a  grain  of  rice  in  a 
month.  But  with  all  his  prayers  and  his  skimping,  he 
had  not  water  enough.  His  fields  were  brown  when  Sono 
Hito's  were  still  green.  Trouble  indeed! 

Sono  Hito,  the  meanwhile,  was  not  worrying.  He  was 
a  patriarch  in  the  "  Home  of  Happy  Husbandmen,"  and 
never  had  bad  years,  even  though  he  kept  few  fasts  and 
was  not  more  than  half  careful  of  his  reservoirs. 

A  lot  of  folk  worked  for  him,  however,  and  with- 
out knowing  it,  though  they  were  glad  in  their  uncon- 
scious service.  They  were  good  Buddhists  of  the  Hong- 
wanji  sect,  passing  daily  to  the  grand  old  temple  over- 
looking the  sea.  They  offered  alms  to  Amida,  the 
Buddha,  and  ere  they  offered  they  washed  themselves, 
as  good  folk  do  before  they  worship.  Sono  Hito,  of 
course,  knew  this,  for  he  went  himself  to  the  temple 
sometimes  and  took  the  preliminary  bath  just  as  the 
others  did.  It  was  while  he  was  taking  one  of  these 
baths  that  the  idea  which  resulted  in  Kono  Hito's 
"  trouble  "  had  occurred  to  Sono  Hito.  This  is  the  idea. 

Sono's  rice-fields  reached  quite  up  to  the  temple  grove. 
He  would  build  a  shrine  in  'honor  of  the  temple's  god 
a  little  this  side  of  the  gate  of  the  temple,  and  near  the 
road.  He  would  sink  a  well  there.  It  would  needs  be 
a  deep  well,  it  is  true,  but  Sono's  crops  had  been  good 
arid  he  would  not  begrudge  the  cost.  Having  dug  the 

[5] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

well  he  would  place  a  tablet  before  the  shrine,  bearing  a 
declaration  of  the  dedication  of  his  offering  to  the  tem- 
ple's god  on  behalf  of  those  who  worshiped  there.  He 
would  give  each  worshiper  all  the  pure  water  he  might 
desire  for  a  bath,  and  would  not  charge  him  for  it.  All 
the  worshiper  need  do  would  be  to  pump  and  help  him- 
self!  It  was  a  grand  scheme,  such  as  only  a  man  who 
had  seen  the  world  could  have  evolved.  Sono  had  been 
a  traveler. 

He  knew  "  Yokohama,  Nagasaki,  Hakodate,  hai," 
personally,  for  he  had  been  there.  He  had  seen  mis- 
sionaries in  Tokio  and  merchants  in  the  treaty  ports. 
To  one  of  the  missionaries  he  owed  his  inspiration.  The 
reverend  gentleman  had  shown  him  a  praying  water- 
wheel  from  India.  It  was  part  of  a  collection  the 
learned  preacher  had  gathered  at  various  stations  he  had 
occupied  in  the  Far  East.  Sono  Hito  delighted  in  the 
collection,  but  the  praying-wheel  pleased  him  most.  If 
he  had  had  a  place  on  his  west  coast  rice-fields  to  set  one 
up  he  would  have  begged  the  missionary  to  get  him  one 
from  the  ancient  home  of  Buddhism. 

Some  days  after  he  had  seen  this  supplication-made- 
simple  apparatus,  so  much  simpler  than  the  man-power 
prayer-wheels  of  the  Tokio  temples,  Sono  received  an 
invitation  from  one  of  the  missionary's  friends,  a  silk 
merchant  in  Yokohama.  This  man  wished  to  make  ac- 
quaintances on  the  west  coast,  especially  in  Fukui  and 
Kanagawa  Kens,  where  the  silkworms  spin  well.  Sono, 
always  ready  "  to  see  the  new  thing,"  to  learn  some- 
thing and  to  have  a  good  time,  took  the  train  at  Shim- 

[6] 


KONO    HITO 

bashi  station  that  afternoon,  and  within  an  hour  was 
at  "  Yama  Namban,"  as  the  jin-riki-sha  coolies  called 
the  merchant's  house. 

Sono  Hito  had  a  wonderful  time  at  this  foreigner's 
home.  The  foreign  dainties,  the  bathroom  with  the 
water-taps,  the  high  bed,  the  cooking-stove  with  its 
chimney,  were  marvelous  to  him,  but  the  thing  that 
tickled  him  especially  was  what  he  called  the  "  midzu- 
age  kikai,"  or  water-raising  machine,  not  far  from  the 
kitchen  door.  He  played  with  this  a  half-hour  steadily, 
until  he  was  all  of  a  sweat  and  had  flooded  his  host's 
back  yard  and  turned  the  tennis-court  into  a  soppy 
marsh. 

Nothing  would  do  but  he  must  have  one  to  operate 
at  his  home  over  on  the  west  coast,  and  as  the  kikai  was 
not  in  stock  at  any  of  the  Yokohama  agencies,  Sono 
Hito's  host  promised  to  get  one  for  him  from  San  Fran- 
cisco. 

"  I'll  send  it  over  to  you  as  soon  as  it  arrives,"  said 
Mo-Hitotsu-Smith  San.  (M.  H.  S.  S.  was  the  second 
Smith  to  come  to  Yokohama  after  Perry's  departure. 
The  first  Smith  was  merely  "  Smith  San,"  but  the  second 
was  Mo-Hitotsu-Smith  San,  i.  e.,  more-one-Smith  Mr.) 
He  did  better  than  that,  however,  he  took  the  apparatus 
over  himself  three  months  later,  and  showed  his  Japanese 
friend  how  to  set  it  up  and  how  he  could  use  it  to  fill  a 
storage  tank  so  as  to  have  water  for  emergencies. 

So  Sono  Hito  had  men  dig  the  well  wide  and  deep. 
There  was  not  such  another  well  in  that  part  of  the  coun- 
try. Kono  Hito,  across  the  road,  had  nothing  in  the 

m 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

least  comparable.  He  would  not  have  spent  so  much 
money  on  a  well  had  he  been  never  so  rich,  and  in  these 
days  he  thought  himself  a  very  poor  man  indeed.  It 
grieved  him  to  think  that  anything  that  cost  money 
should  be  necessary  in  his  household.  The  sight  of  his 
people  eating  made  him  ill,  and  the  prosperity  across  the 
road  was  like  fire  against  his  face.  He  could  not  endure 
to  look  at  it.  But  as  Kono  Hito  suffered,  Sono  Hito 
worked  at  his  well  shrine.  The  building  was  beautiful 
in  design  as  anything  pertaining  to  Hongwanji  would 
be.  Inside,  over  at  one  end,  was  a  broad,  shallow, 
wooden  tank  for  the  bather  to  sit  in,  and,  before  the 
tank,  ample  floor  space,  where  the  worshiper  would  have 
room  to  use  his  scrubbing  towel,  such  as  all  Japanese 
carry  with  them.  At  the  end  opposite  the  tank  was  the 
shrine,  and  beside  the  tank  was  a  device  strange  to  the 
natives  of  the  west  coast.  Sono  called  it  a  prayer- 
machine.  Over  it  was  a  panel  bearing  the  Chinese  in- 
scription, "  Bonno  kuno  "  ("All  lust  is  grief"). 

A  Yankee  would  not  have  thought  of  prayer  in  con- 
nection with  this  device.  He  would  doubt  if  the  Jap- 
anese used  water  prayer- wheels,  and  would  have  said 
simply  "  chain-pump."  But  one  may  assert  with  con- 
siderable confidence  that  Yankee  or  other  foreigner 
never  before  had  seen  a  chain-pump  boxed  in  an  image 
of  Buddha,  with  a  third  arm,  in  the  shape  of  a  crank, 
reaching  out  from  one  side  and  projecting  over  a  bath- 
tub. 

Sono  Hito,  however,  knew  all  about  the  apparatus, 
both  from  the  Yankee  and  the  west-coast  view-point* 

[8] 


KONO    HITO 

He  was  the  only  person  who  did ;  but,  like  Brer  Rabbit, 
"  he  wasn't  saying  nuffin'." 

In  fact,  the  two  foreigners  who  did  see  this  device 
guessed  right  the  very  first  time,  like  the  young  man 
in  the  song,  but  they  kept  their  thoughts  to  themselves. 
Sono  Hito  might  call  it  a  prayer-machine,  and  each 
bather  as  he  sat  in  the  tub  might  turn  Buddha's  third 
arm  with  vigor  and  pray  fervently,  chanting  his  peti- 
tions in  unison  with  the  rat-tat-rat-tat-tattle  in  Buddha's 
stomach;  to  the  Yankee's  mind  the  thing  would  be  a 
chain-pump  still. 

It  was  soon  after  this  visit  of  Mo-Hitotsu-Smith  San 
that  the  patriarch  of  the  Home  of  Happy  Husbandmen 
had  conceived  his  scheme  of  joining  piety  and  prosperity 
in  happy  combination  by  giving  faithful  Buddhists  a 
cataract  bath  free  and  a  chance  at  the  prayer-machine 
thrown  in.  He  had  to  explain  his  device,  of  course,  for 
it  was  such  a  noticeable  innovation,  so  he  told  the  village 
folk  that  the  ancient  peoples  of  China  and  India  had 
used  these  machines  with  august  results.  He  even 
threw  off  his  kimono,  sat  himself  in  the  tub,  and  showed 
them  how,  after  pious  revolutions,  the  Divine  Pleasure 
would  give  them  water  from  above. 

The  idea  pleased  everyone,  unless  it  were  Kono  Hito, 
for  Buddhists  are  partial  to  cataract  baths.  They  take 
them  the  year  round,  even  in  winter,  though  possibly 
they  do  not  enjoy  them  then,  at  least  not  with  obvious 
hilarity.  In  Tokio,  the  capital,  in  spite  of  its  modern- 
ization, the  traveler  sees  native  men  and  women  standing 
naked  under  a  fall  of  water  in  some  of  the  temple  parks. 

[9] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

In  December  and  January  this  water  is  well  down  to 
freezing  point.  The  Japanese  do  this  because  they 
know  there  is  virtue  in  a  cataract.  Wherever  a  cataract 
is,  that  place  is  sacred.  If  there  is  none  folk  often  take 
great  pains  to  make  artificial  falls,  especially  in  the 
neighborhood  of  temples. 

They  are  purifiers  beyond  all  else,  these  "  from- 
heaven-descending "  streams.  Therefore,  when  Sono 
San  made  his  offer  of  a  free  bath — a  cataract  bath ! 
something  the  region  about  the  beloved  temple  had  not 
known  since  the  "O  joshin"  (the  great  earthquake), 
which,  hundreds  of  years  before,  had  broken  up  the 
country,  letting  out  the  upper  waters  and  ruining  their 
plans  of  holy  ablution — he  became  the  most  popular  man 
in  the  ken. 

Sono  Hito  was  deeply  grateful  to  his  foreign  friend, 
who  had  showed  him  how  to  rig  the  pump  so  as  to  deliver 
the  water  into  a  tank  in  the  roof  of  the  shrine.  This 
tank  was  a  distributing  reservoir.  Part  of  the  water 
that  the  worshipers  pumped  into  it  poured  down  in  a 
stream  on  to  the  head  of  whoever  might  be  working  at 
the  crank,  as  he  or  she  sat  in  the  tub.  The  greater 
part,  however,  flowed  away  into  channels  through  the 
rice-fields.  As  the  pious  came,  therefore,  and  worked 
the  prayer-machine,  they  accomplished  three  things  at 
once,  which,  in  the  order  of  Sono  San's  idea  of  their 
importance,  would  read — pumping,  irrigation,  and  puri- 
fication. This  explains  how  Sono  Hito  kept  things 
green,  and  why  Kono  Hito  said  "  Trouble  indeed !  " 

Poor  Kono  Hito  worried  greatly  over  the  early  yellow- 
[10] 


KONO    HITO 

ishness  of  his  fields.  He  did  not  understand  how  Sono 
Hito  managed.  He  never  had  been  to  Yokohama,  and 
he  knew  nothing  of  chain-pumps.  He  believed  that 
Sono  Hito's  piety  had  won  favor  in  Buddha's  eyes,  and 
that  the  gods  had  blessed  the  fields  as  a  mark  of  divine 
pleasure.  If  he  could  have  a  bath  shrine  he  might  win 
favor  too,  but  that  would  cost  money ;  and  then  to  give 
the  baths  free,  not  to  charge  even  a  one-rin  x  piece  for 
them — the  thought  was  too  painful. 

Still,  if  Buddha  would  smile  on  him,  it  might  pay, 
thought  Kono.  It  would  pay — but  to  spend  the  money ! 
"  Trouble ! "  Therefore  he  devised  how  he  might  be 
pious  cheaply. 

"  Namu  omahen  de  gisu,"  said  the  wife  in  the  dialect 
of  her  district  when  a  man  called  one  morning  to  see 
Kono  Hito.  She  meant  he  was  not  at  home  (in  Tokio 
she  might  have  said :  "  Tadaima  rusu  de  gozaimasu." 
That  would  have  conveyed  a  similar  idea).  So  the  man 
went  away. 

Down  the  road  he  heard  a  voice  calling  "  Korario," 
which  to  those  who  live  in  that  region  means,  "  Come 
here."  The  man  went  in  the  direction  of  the  call,  and 
found  Kono  Hito  busy  with  a  carpenter  and  well-digger, 
discussing  plans  for  an  opposition  bath  shrine.  Kono 
Hito  was  in  agony  over  the  cost,  but  the  workmen  had 
reached  their  lowest  limit,  and,  with  many  bows,  were 
protesting  that  if  they  cut  their  price  down  even  a 
"  mo  "  J  further  they  would  not  have  enough  left  to  pay 

1  One  rin  equals  one-twentieth  of  a  cent. 

2  One  mo  =  ^  of  a  rin,  i.  e.  -^  of  a  cent. 

[11] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

for  the  air  they  breathed  while  digging.  So  Kono  had 
to  give  in. 

Within  a  week  the  plans  had  materialized.  There 
was  a  well  with  a  pair  of  buckets,  a  tub,  and  a  shrine 
dedicated  to  the  use  of  worshipers.  It  was  not  a 
cataract  bath,  nor  was  the  well  deep,  but  Kono  Hito 
hoped  Buddha  would  take  his  poverty  into  account  and 
smile  as  sweetly  as  though  the  water  fell  direct  from  a 
spring  on  the  mountain  side. 

But  Buddha  did  not  smile.  No  one  went  to  Kono 
Hito's  shrine  bath  unless  too  many  had  gathered  at  the 
place  across  the  way.  "  Without  worshipers  Buddha 
will  not  smile,"  said  the  unhappy  husbandman. 
"  Trouble,  trouble !  What  shall  I  do?  "  This  brought 
him  inspiration. 

He  took  a  station  at  a  point  "that  commanded  a  view 
of  the  road,  and  whenever  he  saw  those  coming  who 
might  be  worshipers  he  went  into  Sono  Hito's  shrine,  sat 
himself  in  the  tank,  turned  the  crank,  and  prayed  vigor- 
ously. 

This  was  a  cunning  scheme,  for  the  pilgrims,  after 
waiting  long  for  Kono  to  finish,  would  decide  that  such 
fervent  piety  should  not  be  disturbed,  and,  leaving  the 
zealot  in  Sono  Hito's  tub,  they  would  cross  over  to  do 
as  best  they  might  with  the  two  buckets.  When  they 
had  washed  they  emptied  these  buckets  on  the  roadside. 
But  still  Buddha  did  not  smile  on  the  fields  of  Kono  San. 

Kono  San,  however,  as  he  ground  and  ground  away, 
taking  twenty  or  thirty  baths  a  day,  chilling  himself 
in  the  cataract,  and  pumping  three  times  as  much  water 


KONO    HI  TO 

over  Sono  Hito's  fields  as  he  brought  down  on  to  his 
aching  poll,  had  much  tenacity,  and  a  belief  that  if  he 
could  keep  the  pious  to  his  side  of  the  road  long  enough 
lie  would  receive  the  blessings  his  soul  yearned  for. 

He  pumped  and  prayed  heroically,  resting  little  and 
eating  less,  while  Sono  Hito  took  a  peep  at  him  occa- 
sionally, and  showed  not  the  least  vexation. 

Kono  San  wondered  at  this,  for  he  had  been  rather 
fearful  of  discovery,  and  when  he  learned  that  the  man  he 
was  so  jealous  of  had  seen  him  and  had  said  nothing,  he 
did  not  understand ;  nor  could  he  understand  why  Buddha 
did  not  show  some  sign  of  favor.  As  he  pumped,  he 
puzzled  upon  these  things,  and  grew  more  and  more  at- 
tenuated. 

Overbathing,  even  with  prayers,  is  not  good.  When 
Junsa,  the  policeman,  called  Isha,  the  physician,  to 
Sono  Hito's  shrine  one  evening,  and  let  his  lantern 
light  fall  on  Kono  Hito's  face,  the  man  of  medicine  said, 
"  Water  on  the  brain."  Two  days  later  his  family 
buried  him,  and  Sono  Hito  gave  money  for  a  stone 
column  to  mark  the  resting-place  of  the  dead  man's 
ashes.  Why  not?  Kono  Hito  really  had  helped  Sono 
Hito  a  good  deal. 


[13] 


CHAPTER    TWO 

O  TOYO  SAN 

KONO  HITO  took  us  over  one  day  to  visit  his 
friends  at  Tatsumi,  an  interesting  old  place,  where 
we  had  a  practical  demonstration  of  the  irresisti- 
bility of  Japanese  hospitality.  We  had  intended  to 
spend  only  an  afternoon,  but  our  intentions  might  as  welt 
have  been  non-existent  for  all  that  they  availed.  A 
wooden  image  would  have  succumbed,  and  neither  of  us 
was  an  image,  though,  in  the  light  of  native  charm  of 
manner,  we  appeared  to  ourselves  wooden  enough.  So 
it  was  that  that  afternoon  visit,  under  Tatsumi  manipu- 
lation, expanded  into  days,  and  the  days  into  weeks. 

We  were  the  only  foreigners  the  villagers  had  ever 
seen,  and  though  it  was  in  the  days  of  passports,  the 
police  did  not  ask  us  to  produce  our  papers.  They  had 
never  had  occasion  to  look  up  the  law  about  "  bar- 
barians." 

Tatsumi  gave  us  a  chance  indeed  to  see  Japan  at 
home.  There  we  were  near  enough  to  native  life  to  hear 
the  heart  beat.  We  did  not  see  much  of  Tatsumi's 
owner,  Hikusaburo,  as  he  was  away  much,  but  his  father 
and  his  mother  we  came  to  know  well,  and  also  his  chil- 
dren, his  doll  wife,  and  last,  but  far  from  least,  the 
sweet  lady  who  had  preceded  her.  O  Toyo  was  her 
name.  Once,  in  Hikusaburo's  absence,  we  paid  a  three 

[14] 


O    TOYO    SAN 

days'  visit  to  her  home,  a  charming  place,  and  again  we 
saw  her  close  to  Tatsumi — but  not  inside. 

I  recall  her  now,  as  she  sat  tapping  the  ashes  from 
her  silver  pipe  in  one  of  the  small  thatched  houses  that 
stand  just  outside  the  blackened  walls  of  that  old  home- 
stead. She  was  waiting  for  her  kurumaya,  the  coolie, 
who  had  dropped  the  shafts  of  his  jin-riki-sha  and  was 
taking  a  bowl  of  rice  with  some  old  friends  at  the  gate 
where  he  had  served  for  many  years.  O  Toyo  San  was 
on  her  way  to  Biwa,  and  farther  south,  and  had  stopped 
at  the  cottage  that  she  might  see  her  children. 

There  was  a  longing  in  her  eyes  as  she  sat  half  kneel- 
ing on  the  little  square  mat  by  the  brazier,  now  arrang- 
ing the  bits  of  charcoal  with  her  tongs,  and  now  taking 
a  bit  of  tobacco  from  the  pouch  beside  her  on  the 
matting.  Her  face  was  gentle  and  sweet  to  look  upon. 
When  she  smiled  her  eyes  sparkled,  and  her  parting  lips 
discovered  pearly  teeth  that  had  never  needed  a  dentist's 
care.  But  her  smile  was  hardly  more  than  courtesy, 
despite  its  gentle  look,  for  a  yearning  was  in  her  heart 
that  a  woman  of  another  race  would  hardly  have  con- 
cealed. 

She  was  a  mother,  but  her  children  were  growing  up 
almost  as  strangers  to  her.  It  is  not  her  fault  at  all. 
Her  parents  had  arranged  her  marriage  when  she  was 
hardly  in  her  teens,  without  asking  her  whether  she 
would  or  not.  Obedience  was  the  only  law  she  knew, 
and  with  filial  piety  (why  is  there  not  a  good  old  Eng- 
lish equivalent  for  this  term?)  she  had  done  her  parents' 
bidding,  not  questioning  their  choice.  Her  lot  had  been 

[15] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

that  of  many  another  native  woman,  and  she  must  wait 
outside  to  see  the  children  born  to  her  in  Tatsumi,  a  girl 
and  a  boy. 

The  boy,  O  Bo  Chan,  as  the  house-folk  call  him, 
is  heir  to  the  ancient  manor.  The  master  of  Tat- 
sumi is  lord  of  all  the  region  round.  He  has  owned 
Hombo,  the  village  extending  northward,  ever  since  men 
first  abode  there,  and  the  checker  board  of  rice-fields 
reaching  far  out  towards  the  boundaries  of  Niu  Gun, 
one  of  the  richest  counties  in  the  famous  province  of 
Echizen. 

Those,  however,  who  have  long  known  Tatsumi  and 
the  lord  thereof  doubt  if  much  but  the  name  of  these 
great  possessions  will  be  left  by  the  time  O  Bo  Chan  has 
come  to  man's  estate.  Bo's  grandfather  has  been 
"  inkiyo  "  (in  retirement)  many  years.  Before  he  retired 
from  active  life  to  devote  himself  to  study  and  medi- 
tation he  had  lived  like  a  prince,  but  well  within  his 
income.  When  he  handed  over  his  estates  to  his  son, 
Hikusaburo,  he  had  accompanied  the  transfer  with  much 
good  advice,  which  the  heir  had  acknowledged  dutifully, 
saying,  "  I  listen  with  respectful  assent "  and  "  Honor- 
ably so  augustly  is  "  frequently. 

But  Tatsumi's  friends  said  "  Neko  ni  koban  "  ("  Gold 
coins  to  a  cat")  when  they  spoke  among  themselves, 
though  in  public  they  held  their  peace. 

Since  then  their  prophecy  has  been  fulfilling  rapidly, 
but  the  inkiyo  has  not  paid  heed.  His  cares  for  this 
life  are  over,  and  his  days  are  sweet  and  peaceful. 
O  Kamisan,  his  honored  wife,  has  seen,  but  she  cannot 

[16] 


O    TOYO    SAN 

speak.  Indeed  she  is  O  Kamisan  no  longer,  only  Obasan 
(grandmother).  Her  son  has  become  the  head  of  the 
house,  and  her  duty,  as  a  woman's  duty  ever  is  in  Japan, 
is  to  obey,  not  to  criticise.  So  Hikusaburo  has  had  free 
way.  Never  does  anyone  say  no  to  him. 

His  father  had  given  to  him  O  Toyo  San  before  he 
was  done  with  school.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  rich 
relation,  a  sake  brewer.  The  marriage,  as  is  usual  in 
Japan,  was  purely  a  family  agreement,  without  civil 
or  religious  ceremony,  and  of  course  both  houses  were 
happy  over  the  event. 

When  the  bride  arrived  at  the  home  of  her  new 
parents,  dressed  in  silken  robes,  and  her  face  painted 
white  as  chalk,  the  place  was  thronged  with  guests. 
Tatsumi  had  thrown  wide  its  gates,  and  there  was  feast- 
ing for  a  week.  The  head  of  the  house  had  dispensed 
clam  broth  and  mushrooms  lavishly,  and  there  was  joy 
throughout  the  whole  of  Echizen. 

Later,  when  a  boy  was  born,  the  old  walls  once  more 
overflowed  with  joyousness.  Grandfather  smiled  at  his 
grandchild,  and  seeing  that  it  was  a  healthy  babe,  put 
his  affairs  in  order  and  became  inkiyo.  Hikusaburo 
aided  him  in  this,  for  he  was  eager  to  take  control.  He 
accepted  everything  with  due  humility,  even  to  the  patri- 
archal blessing  and  advice.  Then  he  began  the  life  he 
had  longed  to  lead.  His  home  saw  little  of  him,  except 
when  he  came  in  with  a  band  of  geisha  and  made  merry 
till  the  sun  rose.  Wherever  he  went  the  samisen  began 
to  twang,  and  the  moon-fiddle,  the  koto,  and  the  drum, 
to  fill  the  air  with  sounds. 

[H] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

One  day  Hikusaburo,  who  was  now  the  father  of  two 
children,  fell  in  love.  He  had  been  in  love  before  often 
enough  for  a  day  or  two ;  but  this  time  the  feeling  clung 
to  him,  and  hurt.  Of  course  she  was  a  geisha,  for  that 
was  the  only  sort  of  woman  Hikusaburo  had  paid  atten- 
tion to  since  he  became  lord  of  Tatsumi.  He  bought 
her  release  from  the  master  who  had  trained  her,  and 
took  her  home,  along  with  a  dozen  other  of  her  sisters 
in  the  art  of  spending  money.  He  feared  lest  she  might 
be  lonely. 

Tatsumi  saw  wilder  times  than  ever  it  had  known  be- 
fore. Sake  was  as  plentiful  as  the  rain  in  June.  Hombo 
hardly  recognized  itself.  O  Toyo  San,  Hikusaburo's 
wife,  only  was  unhappy.  To  see  herself,  the  mother  of 
two  children,  supplanted  by  a  doll  not  yet  fourteen  years 
old,  was  too  much  even  for  her  self-abnegation.  The 
cheerfulness  which  the  native  code  commands  to  woman 
was  not  in  evidence  in  her  countenance.  Hikusaburo 
spoke  harshly,  but  she  would  not  brighten  up.  Then  he 
sent  her  home.  She  has  not  been  within  the  walls  of 
Tatsumi  since.  She  would  not  enter  though  not  even  a 
ghost  were  about  the  place. 

So  it  was  when  last  I  saw  her  that  she  sat  outside 
waiting  while  the  melancholy  music  of  the  samisen 
floated  out  from  the  zashiki,  where  once  she  was  mistress, 
and  where  now  my  lord  made  merry  with  his  doll. 

The  kurumaya  said  that  possibly  when  my  lord  was 
drunk  she  might  see  her  children. 


[18] 


CHAPTER    THREE 
OUR  LANDLORD 

IT  was  at  Tatsumi  that  we  met  Okashi  Kintaro,  who 
subsequently  became  our  landlord.      He  was  down 
from  the  north  on  a  visit  to  some  friends  with  whom 
he  had  served  in  his  fighting  days.     We  saw  him  several 
times,  and  so  enjoyed  the  enthusiasm  he  displayed  at 
various   f eastings,  to  which  we  had  the  good  luck  to 
receive  invitations,  that  we  besought  him  to  let  us  go 
along  with  him  a  way  on  his  return. 

"  Too  happy,"  he  assured  us.  Such  an  honor  he 
would  not  have  dared  to  hope  for.  And  so  with  mutual 
satisfaction  we  started  on  the  journey  up  the  coast. 

He  was  a  triumph  as  a  guide,  for  he  knew  all  the 
interesting  folk  along  the  route,  and  presented  us  to  the 
"  choja,"  or  headman,  of  each  village  we  passed  through. 
Literally  we  had  to  eat  our  way.  On  the  last  day,  which 
was  the  hardest,  we  had  nine  banquets.  We  were  in 
Okashi's  native  country  by  this  time,  and,  as  we  learned 
later,  he  had  advertised  our  coming  with  a  showman's 
zeal.  Such  schools  as  were  in  session  closed,  and  the 
villagers  turned  out  en  masse  to  see  "  the  red  whiskers  " 
and  "  the  man  with  green  eyes  "  (all  eyes  that  are  not 
brown  are  "  green  "  in  Japanese,  and  beards  that  are 
not  black  are  "red").  We  fancied  ourselves  Crown 

[19] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Princes  on  a  tour,  but  the  truth  was  we  were  only 
curiosities. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  breakfast  of  that  last  day. 
It  was  at  the  house  of  a  well-to-do  farmer,  Hyakusho 
Sama,  a  friend  of  Okashi's,  where  we  had  supped  and 
spent  the  night.  While  serving  us  our  host  had  noticed 
that  we  liked  a  certain  walnut  sweet  particularly,  and 
so  the  good  wife  had  sat  up  all  the  night  making  more 
of  it  for  our  breakfast.  I  had  never  eaten  walnut 
sweet  for  breakfast  before,  and  I  think  I  never  shall 
again.  To  be  sure,  it  was  only  a  side  dish,  but  host  and 
hostess  urged  us  so  often  to  eat  some  of  it  that  we  began 
to  believe  that  it  was  the  only  thing  on  the  floor  that  they 
wished  us  to  eat.  This  notion  was  quite  wrong,  however, 
for  there  was  the  regular  breakfast  of  custards,  salted 
plums,  mushrooms,  fish,  and  rice.  These  were  served  in 
courses  on  tiny  wooden  trays  of  lacquered  wood,  and  in 
cups  and  bowls  that  would  have  made  a  collector  trans- 
gress the  tenth  commandment. 

I  should  say,  too,  as  I  recall  the  appearance  of  the  floor 
whereon  we  sat,  that  the  hostess  had  brought  in  a  regular 
dinner  complete,  after  each  course  of  the  breakfast,  for 
I  counted  over  ninety  dishes  in  front  of  Hyakusho, 
Okashi,  Gardner,  and  me,  and  many  bottles  besides.  The 
largest  dishes  held  the  walnut  sweet,  more  than  I  should 
have  cared  to  carry  in  a  handbag,  to  say  nothing  of  my 
interior,  but  Hyakusho's  wife  was  keen,  and  laid  our 
disinclination  to  eat  these  walnut  slabs  to  our  modesty. 
This  modesty  she  endeavored  to  overcome,  and  was  so 
assiduous  in  her  urging  that  we  made  great  effort  to 

[20] 


OUR    LANDLORD 

comply.  We  munched  and  munched  and  munched, 
mechanically  and  unhappily,  until  at  last  our  hostess 
purred — but,  oh,  dear! 

Though  some  years  have  passed  since  that  morning 
at  Hyakusho  Sanaa's  house,  the  muscles  of  my  jaws  ache 
now  whenever  I  think  of  the  work  I  did.  Our  efforts 
to  please  the  good  wife  put  us  in  rather  bad  form  for 
the  series  of  functions  Okashi  had  devised  for  our 
progress  into  his  domain.  Our  faces  pained  us  so  we 
could  not  even  ruminate,  nevertheless  we  had  to  take 
part  in  eight  more  banquets,  each  of  them  much  like 
the  first  except  for  the  walnut  sweet.  Had  that  ap- 
peared again  that  day  I  should  not  have  written  of 
our  journey — there  would  have  been  no  time.  I  should 
have  "  passed  on,"  and,  being  in  a  Buddhist  country, 
should  have  been  duly  reincarnated,  doubtless  as  a 
huge  walnut  tree  for  little  boys  to  throw  things  aL 
The  ninth  banquet  was  at  Okashi  San's  own  home.  I 
do  not  remember  anything  about  it.  When  we  awoke 
the  next  afternoon  we  went  out  to  see  something  of 
the  capital  of  Etchiu,  on  the  west  coast  of  Dai  Nip- 
pon. It  looks  out  over  the  North  Sea,  as  they  call 
it  there,  toward  the  frozen  Siberian  coast.  Here 
Okashi  Kintaro  had  a  charming  home,  a  dutiful  son, 
and  a  good  thing.  We  were  the  good  thing.  We 
rather  enjoj'ed  being  a  good  thing — that  is,  we  did 
after  we  had  recovered;  the  experience  was  so  interest- 
ing. Okashi  was  a  samurai  of  the  old  school,  brought 
up  under  the  feudal  system.  He  knew  how  to  fight,  of 
course,  as  all  gentlemen  should  in  those  days.  If  he 

[21] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

knew  anything  else,  he  concealed  it  during  the  year  we 
lived  with  him.  I  do  not  count  his  knowledge  of  how 
to  make  merry — to  "  paint  the  town  red,"  so  that  his 
evening  environment  looked  as  if  it  had  been  lacquered 
with  the  hues  of  the  setting  sun;  for  such  knowledge 
was  not  remarkable.  Every  samurai  in  Japan  could  do 
that,  not  to  mention  humble  folk.  He  was  quite  regard- 
less of  expense  in  this  employment,  being  of  gentle 
birth,  and,  besides,  he  had  no  money.  It  is  true  the 
Government  had  pensioned  him  when  it  abolished  the 
feudal  system  and  "  caste,"  but  that  pension  was  mort- 
gaged. Okashi  Kintaro  had  spent  forty  years  of  it  in 
advance. 

At  this  time,  thanks  to  what  was  known  as  "  the  most 
favored  nation  clause  "  in  Japan's  treaty  with  the  chief 
countries  of  the  world  and  to  general  bungling  in  the 
Department  of  Foreign  Relations,  outsiders  could 
neither  own  nor  rent  property  in  their  own  names,  except 
in  restricted  districts  of  some  half-dozen  cities,  such  as 
Tokio,  Yokohama,  Kobe,  Osaka,  Nagasaki,  Niigata, 
-and  Hackodate.  As  we  wished  to  study  Japanese  life,  we 
did  not  care  to  live  in  any  of  the  foreign  concessions, 
where  one  never  is  quite  in  touch  with  real  Japan.  So 
we  had  come  to  the  west  coast,  to  a  province  where  no 
foreigners  had  lived  before  and  few  had  ever  visited. 
As  we  could  not  be  our  own  landlord,  we  proceeded  to 
hire  one.  Okashi  San  then  seemed  just  the  man,  and 
we  thought  ourselves  in  great  luck  to  secure  him. 

When  we  asked  him  he  hailed  the  idea  with  delight. 
He  said  he  liked  foreigners,  and  confided  in  a  friend, 


OUR    LANDLORD 

as  we  discovered,  that  he  considered  young  ones  were 
better  than  a  pension.  It  is  only  fair  to  say  that  he 
was  brave  whenever  there  was  occasion,  and  exceedingly 
generous  when  he  had  anything  to  give.  Often  he  put 
himself  to  great  personal  inconvenience  to  do  one  a 
favor. 

According  to  our  agreement  we  hired  him  to  hire  us 
as  instructors  in  a  school  that  offered  wonderful  facilities 
for  teaching  the  English  language.  Okashi  rented  two 
beautiful  old  temples  that  had  flourished  in  the  Shugun's 
time  under  his  bounty,  but  now  were  empty.  One  was 
for  the  school  and  one  for  our  living-house.  He  lived 
with  his  family  in  the  school,  and  for  the  first  month 
his  wife  cooked  for  us,  and  both  of  them  did  our  market- 
ing. At  the  end  of  the  month  we  called  for  the  bills. 
Okashi  San  would  not  hear  of  it.  "  lye,  iye!  "  ("  No, 
no !  " )  he  would  repeat.  "  August  pardon  deign,  but 
the  school  is  a  resplendent  success,  and  I  and  my  stupid 
wife  are  overwhelmed  with  honor.  It  is  we  who  owe 

you." 

This  went  on  for  three  days,  until  we  began  to  believe 
Okashi  meant  it,  so  we  proceeded  to  put  our  money  to 
other  uses.  When  it  had  thus  been  put,  he  appeared 
before  us  one  warm  afternoon  with  a  roll  of  thin  brown 
paper  exactly  nineteen  feet  six  inches  in  length.  (We 
measured  it  along  the  edge  of  the  "  tatami."  * )  It 
was  a  bill.  Oskashi  San  made  a  bow  for  every  foot  in 
the  strip,  and  then  began  to  read  it  to  us.  It  was  an 
object  lesson  in  Japanese  minuteness  of  detail. 

1  The  mats  on  a  native  floor.    They  measure  6x3  feet. 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Many  of  the  items  were  in  fractions  of  a  mill.  One 
for  pepper  was  0.0153,  or,  as  the  Japanese  read  it, 
"  kosho  is  sen,  go  rin,  sam  mo."  Gardner  said  the  sam 
mo  (/Q-  of  a  mill)  was  unnecessary  extravagance,  as 
we  could  have  had  quite  enough  for  an  even  "  is  sen,  go 
rin.  Three  decimals  was  deep  enough  to  go  into  such 
hot  stuff  as  pepper." 

Okashi  bowed  eight  times  and  said,  "  Sayo  de  gozai- 
masu,"  which  we  interpreted  gratefully  to  imply  that 
next  month  there  would  be  economy  in  condiments. 

When  the  reading  was  over  we  learned  that  the  foot- 
ing of  the  nineteen  feet  was  twenty  dollars,  or  a  little 
over  eight  cents  an  inch.  This  was  a  surprise,  for  we 
had  expected  nothing  less  than  one  hundred  dollars, 
estimating  by  the  length  of  time  it  took  to  read  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end.  As  we  had  not  twenty  dollars, 
Gardner  wired  a  friend  in  Tokio  and  received  thirty 
dollars  the  next  morning.  We  paid  Okashi  San  the 
twenty  dollars,  and  he  returned  in  half  an  hour  with  a 
red  seal  and  a  stamp  at  the  end  of  his  scroll,  showing 
that  the  bill  had  been  duly  paid.  We  asked  him  if  he 
was  sure  everything  had  been  settled  for,  as  his  bring- 
ing in  a  bill  after  so  many  protestations  had  not  pleased 
us,  and  we  wished  to  clean  our  slate  entirely  while  we 
were  about  it. 

"  Indeed  that  is  all,"  said  our  landlord.  "  It  is  every- 
thing, even  the  rent." 

Upon  this  we  devised  how  we  should  disburse  what  was 
remaining  out  of  the  thirty  dollars.  We  decided  to 
study  the  famous  "  No  "  dancing,  the  most  ancient  of 


OUR    LANDLORD 

all  Japanese  ceremonies,  and  our  money  disappeared 
pleasantly. 

The  next  day  as  we  sat  on  the  tatami,  wondering  if  we 
should  ever  learn  what  to  do  with  our  legs — most  incon- 
venient appendages  in  rooms  that  have  no  chairs — the 
"  karakami " x  slid  apart  and  Okashi  Okusama  ap- 
peared, bowing  multitudinously.  She  had  a  roll  of  thin 
brown  paper  in  her  hand,  like  the  one  her  husband  had 
brought  in,  and  she  pushed  it  gently  towards  us  as  she 
bowed. 

"  We  squared  all  that  up  yesterday,"  said  Gardner. 

"  Honorably  different,"  said  Okusama. 

"  '  Honorably  different,'  is  it?  "  asked  Gardner.  "  I 
don't  think  so.  Let's  see  it."  And  he  unrolled  it  along 
the  tatami  edge. 

"  By  Jove !  you've  added  two  feet,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  And  where's  the  stamp  and  the  seal?  " 

"  Not  knowing  augustly  am,"  said  Okusama. 

After  a  lengthy  discussion  we  discovered  that  the 
twenty-one  feet  and  six  inches  bill  was  a  separate  account, 
quite  distinct  from  her  husband's  and  as  just.  Gardner 
had  to  wire  to  Tokio  for  another  thirty  dollars. 

We  got  into  such  a  mess  trying  to  straighten  out  this 
second  account,  which  persisted  in  mixing  itself  up  with 
account  number  one,  that  we  decided  to  hire  a  profes- 
sional cook,  and  to  let  him  pay  cash  for  everything  as 
we  went  along.  We  gave  him  his  money  day  by  day,  and 
so  escaped  monthly  bills.  This  really  lightened  the 

1  Sliding  doors  of  paper,  which  are  the  partition  walls  between 
rooms. 

[25] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

work  of  our  landlord  and  landlady  greatly,  but  they 
disapproved  the  change,  nevertheless;  it  had  been 
such  fun  ordering  things  at  the  various  shops  about 
town. 

After  this  affairs  went  on  smoothly  for  some  time, 
until  one  morning  Okashi  San  handed  Gardner  a  slip  of 
paper  on  which  appeared  the  following  items:  Raw 
fish,  mushrooms,  eggs,  sake,  Mile.  Cherry  Blossom, 
Peach  Bud,  Chrysanthemum,  Golden  Plum,  and  Thou- 
sand Joys — a  combination  that  suggested  gayety. 
(Not  long  before  the  public  had  voted  for  Thousand 
Joys  in  the  newspapers,  and  had  elected  her  Grand  Mis- 
tress of  the  geisha  by  a  large  majority.)  As  our  home 
and  the  school  had  been  quiet  the  night  before,  we  did 
not  understand  Okashi's  paper.  He  explained,  how- 
ever. Some  dear  friends  were  leaving  Etchiu  for  a  long 
journey,  and  he  had  been  saying  "  good-by."  As  he 
had  no  money  he  brought  the  bill  to  us.  He  had  had  a 
jolly  time  and  was  sorry  we  had  not  been  with  him;  he 
would  have  asked  us,  but  his  friends,  being  strangers, 
might  have  been  unamusing. 

Under  the  circumstances,  Gardner  had  nothing  to  do 
but  go  into  his  sleeve  for  the  amount  of  the  bill.  In  the 
evening  when  he  had  recovered  somewhat,  he  made  re- 
marks about  Oriental  "  cheek." 

We  had  another  example  of  this  cheek  later,  after 
we  had  laid  aside  our  foreign  attire  in  Etchiu,  had  put 
on  the  native  Japanese  dress,  and  adopted  the  native 
manner  of  living  in  everything  else  as  well.  A  large 
part  of  our  discarded  clothes  we  gave  to  Okashi  San, 

[26] 


OUR    LANDLORD 

and  to  his  son  Kitsune.  They  took  the  suits  to  the 
tailor's  and  had  them  cut  down  to  fit.  Kitsune  San  took 
advantage  of  this  opportunity  of  giving  orders,  and 
told  Shitateya  San,  the  tailor,  to  make  a  neat  morning 
coat  with  a  waistcoat  to  match.  We  hardly  knew  him 
when  he  presented  himself  in  his  new  attire,  and  handed 
us  the  bill  for  all  the  tailoring.  He  said  he  would  like 
some  new  patent  leather  boots,  too,  to  wear  with  the 
suit,  but  to  his  sorrow  Shitateya  San  could  not  make 
them.  We  allowed  him  to  wait  for  the  boots. 

On  another  occasion  Gardner  went  to  Niigata  to  see 
some  naval  friends,  and  while  he  was  there  I  ran  out  of 
funds  and  wired  him  for  sixty  dollars.  He  and  a  friend 
each  sent  thirty  dollars.  It  so  happened  I  was  called 
over  the  mountains  before  the  reply  came,  and  was  gone 
three  days  on  business  connected  with  the  Government 
schools.  When  I  returned  I  heard  from  afar  the  wail 
of  a  Japanese  song.  The  voice  sounded  familiar,  and 
on  going  into  the  house  I  found  Okashi  San  on  his  back 
in  some  ashes  near  an  American  stove  we  had  set  up  in 
one  of  the  schoolrooms.  His  legs  and  arms  were  in  the 
a'ir,  and  he  was  singing  a  Japanese  song  of  Gardner's 
composition:  "  Doitashi  mashite  abunaio  isakijitsu  go 
men  na  sai,"  etc.  Noisy,  but  altogether  meaningless. 
When  he  saw  me  he  jumped  up  and  did  an  old  samurai 
war-dance,  explaining  the  while  that  the  sixty  dollars 
had  come  all  right,  and  that  he  had  taken  my  seal  and 
got  the  money  from  the  telegraph  office. 

He  had  not  eaten  anything,  he  said,  for  three  days; 
but  sake ! — ah !  ah !  and  he  showed  a  snow-white  tongue. 

[27] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Then  he  untwisted  his  obe1  and  handed  me  thirty-seven 
cents,  all  that  remained  of  the  money  Gardner  and  his 
friend  had  wired.  He  said  he  had  paid  many  bills  and 
had  enjoyed  himself,  but  we  never  learned  exactly  where 
the  money  went  to,  though  we  had  suspicions. 

When  Gardner  decided  to  resign  his  professorship 
and  to  leave  Japan,  there  was  sorrow  in  Etchiu.  The 
great  folk  of  the  province  visited  the  house  and  brought 
him  testimonials  and  gifts.  Together  these  presents 
made  a  beautiful  collection.  About  half  an  hour  before 
Gardner's  jin-riki-sha  was  to  start,  Okashi  Kintaro 
came  over  with  the  glorious  red  bowl,  which  he  gave  with 
many  protestations  of  undying  regard.  Then  he  "  bor- 
rowed "  fifteen  dollars. 

Girdle. 


[28] 


CHAPTER    FOUR 
IN  THE  KINDERGARTEN  DAYS 

OUR  life  on  the  west  coast,  especially  when  we 
were  among  the  hills  with  the  Noto  folk  (most 
of  whom  had  never  seen  a  foreigner),  helped 
us  to  understand  what  Japan  had  been  and  to  appre- 
ciate the  gigantic  work  she  has  accomplished  in  recent 
years.  The  difference  between  the  Japan  of  to-day  and 
that  of  two-score  years  ago  amazes  one.  She  has  done 
in  forty  years  much  that  other  nations  have  been  four 
hundred  in  accomplishing.  Her  system  for  this  ac- 
complishment was  marvelous.  She  had,  for  instance, 
the  greatest  kindergarten  that  ever  was,  greater  than 
ever  will  be  again  probably.  It  was  a  kindergarten  that 
included  a  whole  nation,  both  young  folk  and  old,  but 
chiefly  it  was  for  those  who  had  attained  their  growth. 

This  kindergarten  for  grown-ups  was  unique.  What 
other  country  in  the  world  ever  reorganized  its  "  So- 
ciety "  over  night,  and  ordered  "  everybody  as  was 
anybody  "  to  begin  living  on  an  entirely  new  plan  at 
once?  That  is  practically  what  Japan  did.  She  was 
just  emerging  from  feudalism,  the  feudalism  of  the  Far 
•East,  which  represented  a  social  order  developed  dur- 
ing centuries  in  which  the  outside  world  was  shut  away 
by  laws  of  extraordinary  stringency.  When  Commo- 
dore Perry  appeared  with  his  fleet  and  demanded  treaty 

[29] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

rights,  Japan  awoke.  The  civilization  of  the  West 
fascinated  her  as  she  opened  her  eyes  after  her  long  rest, 
and  she  determined  to  win  for  herself  a  place  in  the  first 
rank  of  the  nations  of  the  world.  She  has  been  ac- 
complishing her  purpose,  to  the  wonder  and  admiration 
of  all. 

To  understand  how  much  she  has  done,  one  must  con- 
sider what  she  was  some  thirty-five  years  ago,  and  com- 
pare her  condition  then  with  her  condition  now.  She 
was  as  feudal  in  1870  as  Europe  was  in  1500.  She  could 
not  then  find  entrance  to  the  comity  of  nations.  Now 
she  is  a  world  power.  Thirty  years  ago  Japan  knew 
practically  nothing  of  Western  customs,  though  she  had 
a  most  elaborate  ceremonial,  one  that  provides  for  all 
possible  emergencies  of  her  own  social  conditions. 

Many  of  these  ceremonies  were  of  great  dignity,  im- 
pressiveness,  and  even  beauty,  but  they  were  quite  out  of 
harmony  with  European  customs,  and  she  decided  to 
throw  all  overboard  and  to  start  again,  to  forget  in  a 
day  all  she  knew  of  that  formal  picturesqueness  which  a 
thousand  years  had  been  developing.  The  samurai,  or 
gentleman,  laid  aside  his  swords,  those  symbols  of  the 
spirit  of  Old  Japan,  which  he  held  dearer  than  any 
price  in  gold  could  purchase;  he  gave  up  his  silken 
robes;  cut  off  his  cue;  let  the  hair  grow  on  the  crown 
of  his  head,  and  put  himself  into  pantaloons  and  a 
frock-coat. 

Here  appeared  some  of  the  amusing  features  of  the 
transformation.  He  bought  a  silk  hat  as  an  aid  to  the 
new  civilization,  a  tile  that  settled  down  and  wabbled  on 

[30] 


IN    THE    KINDERGARTEN    DAYS 

his  ears  as  though  coaxing  his  head  to  grow.  This  hat 
he  delighted  to  brush  the  wrong  way.  And  in  those 
days  anything  did  for  a  shirt,  for  the  laundryman 
had  not  arrived.  When  he  did  come  he  had  to  explain 
what  his  business  was,  and  why  folks  should  patronize 
him.  Sometimes  the  man  of  New  Japan  went  the  frock- 
coat  one  better,  and  put  on  a  dress-suit  whenever  he  went 
forth.  He  was  determined  to  prepare  himself  for  the 
time  when  his  country  should  rank  as  high  as  any 
European  power, — should  be  the  England  of  the 
East, — and  if  clothes  would  do  it,  it  should  not  be  his 
fault  were  that  ambition  not  accomplished. 

To  the  foreigner  it  looked  a  bit  odd  to  see  a  man  of 
forty  and  a  youngster  of  four  toddling  down  the  Ginza 
of  a  summer  morning  in  swallow-tails  and  chimney-pots, 
but  their  action  was  .  significant.  It  meant  that  Old 
Japan  was  dead.  Sometimes  these  dress-suits  had  pink 
linings.  One  man,  a  copper  miner,  who  had  prospered 
in  his  business,  gave  to  each  of  his  coolies  that  had 
served  faithfully  in  the  mines  one  of  these  pink-lined 
suits  as  a  New  Year's  gift.  The  coolies  were  delighted 
with  the  garments,  and  wore  them  proudly  along  with 
their  "  kasa  "  or  umbrella-like  headgear. 

The  disappearance  of  the  old  customs  went  on  rapidly 
— and  what  a  spectacle  the  disappearing  process  offered 
onlookers.  In  the  transformation  from  old  to  new  there 
was  much  that  was  sad,  much  that  was  joyous,  and  a 
little,  necessarily,  that  on  the  surface  was  ridiculous. 

Government  had  established  its  gigantic  kindergarten 
(and  in  Japan,  the  land  of  topsy-turvy,  a  kindergarten 

[31]  " 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

for  men  and  women  is  not  a  contradiction),  it  had 
brought  foreign  instructors  from  the  world  over,  in 
each  department,  and  had  sent  a  steady  stream  of  stu- 
dents abroad  to  study  in  America  and  Europe.  As  these 
students  returned,  the  Government  dropped  off  the  for- 
eigners, until  few  indeed  are  in  Government  employ  to- 
day— though  many  are  living  comfortably  at  home  on 
pensions  after  twenty  years  of  service  in  the  Land  of 
the  Rising  Sun.  Japan  owes  them  much,  but  there  is 
gratitude  on  both  sides. 

The  "  Kobusho,"  or  Board  of  Public  Works,  which 
went  out  of  existence  in  1885,  had  charge  of  bringing 
in  whatever  Japan  wished  from  the  world  outside.  Mar- 
quis Ito,  often  Prime  Minister,  had  charge  of  the  Ko- 
busho in  early  days,  and  Viscount  Hayashi,  now  Min- 
ister Plenipotentiary  at  the  Court  of  St.  James,  was  Ito's 
right-hand  man.  The  work  gave  them  grand  opportu- 
nity for  learning  foreign  business  methods,  but  the  clerks 
did  not  carry  out  our  instructions  as  to  orders  going 
abroad  quite  as  a  clerk  in  an  English  office  would.  One 
order  to  the  Kobusho's  London  agent  read  as  follows: 

Urgent.     Send  to  Tokio  at  once  as  follows: — 
1  Professor  of  Electrical  Science. 
1  Do.           Mining. 

&  Blast  Furnaces. 

And  in  due  course  the  London  agent  forwarded  an  in- 
voice declaring  that  he  had  sent  out  for  Yokohama, 
Japan,  by  steamer,  four  items  as  per  order,  to  wit — 

[32] 


IN    THE    KINDERGARTEN    DAYS 

1  Professor  of  Electrical  Science. 

1  Do.  Mining. 

2  Blast  Furnaces. 

Both  of  the  learned  companions  of  the  blast  furnaces 
are  in  England  now.  They  did  well  by  Japan,  far  bet- 
ter than  the  furnaces,  which  became  part  of  a  steel 
plant  that  cost  the  country  6,000,000  yen  ($3,000,000) 
and  came  to  naught. 

The  Kobusho  was  a  busy  place.  Its  duty  was  to 
furnish  the  stuff — mental,  moral,  and  physical — for 
equipping  some  35,000,000  to  40,000,000  people  with 
a  brand-new  civilization.  It  went  in  strong  for  scien- 
tists. It  imported  all  the  kinds  there  were.  Tokio  was 
as  a  white  ant-hill.  Engineers  swarmed  over  the  city 
and  the  country  round.  Government  contemplated  a 
minute  survey  of  the  Empire,  and  bought  a  full  equip- 
ment for  a  splendid  surveyor-general's  office  in  the  cap- 
ital, together  with  a  great  number  of  instruments  for 
the  surveying  parties.  The  temporary  office  was  of 
wood,  and  there  a  large  corps  of  engineers  worked  for  a 
year  or  so.  Government  had  engaged  them  for  six 
years,  or  until  the  job  should  be  over.  It  found  the 
work  difficult  and  expensive.  One  night  the  office 
burned  down  and  its  contents  went  up  in  smoke.  To  get 
out  new  materials  and  then  begin  all  over  again  "  would 
be  a  great  bother,"  said  the  Kobusho,  so  Government; 
thanked  the  engineers  kindly  for  their  work,  paid  them 
in  full  for  six  years,  and  they  returned  to  their  respec- 
tive countries. 

[33] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

The  Government  scheme  of  Europeanization  included 
cooking  in  its  kindergarten  course.  It  encouraged  beef- 
steak and  rice  curry  and  bottled  beer.  This  gave  rise  to 
a  unique  lot  of  foreign  signs  and  labels,  such  as 
"  Bottled  by  Pale  Ale  &  Co."  on  an  imitation  of  a  famous 
English  stamp.  Over  one  shop  was  this :  "  Rendezvous 
pour  la  Garde  Imperiale,  sale  for  a  plat  of  food,  sale 
for  a  glass  of  wine."  Not  far  from  this  was  the  com- 
bination :  "  Literary  Coffee  House  cafe  de  Billiard." 
(Billiards,  called  "  Tamasuki,"  is  a  delight  to  the  Jap- 
anese, who  are  expert  players.)  Another  sign  was:  "  A 
Sole  Manufacturer  of  Confection " ;  and  another, 
though  not  referring  to  food,  was  "  Iron  Foundry  " — 
it  was  over  the  gateway  of  an  Eye  Infirmary.  Basil 
Hall  Chamberlain,  in  his  delightful  "  Things  Jap- 
anese," has  given  many  more. 

Some  of  the  signs  that  one  used  to  see  in  Nagasaki, 
an  English  publisher  would  not  venture  to  print  for 
sale.  Nagasaki  is  a  seaport,  the  only  kind  of  place  in 
Japan  that  possesses  "  dives,"  and  these  dives  stated 
their  business  frankly  in  language  the  dive  keepers  had 
learned  from  sailors.  These  keepers  had  visiting  cards, 
equally  frank,  which  they  distributed  smilingly. 

With  such  misunderstandings  of  what  the  envied 
Europeans  held  to  be  proper,  as  well  as  what  they  held 
to  be  improper,  were  other  misapprehensions.  A  not 
unnatural  digression  from  de  rigueur  was  to  ladle  out 
soup  into  finger-bowls.  Finger-bowls  are  much  the 
shape  of  the  pretty  lacquered  cups  in  which  Japanese 
serve  their  soup.  The  soup  at  a  European  food-feast 

[34] 


IN    THE    KINDERGARTEN    DAYS 

might  come  to  the  table  in  a  tureen,  or  a  wash-basin,  or 
in  anything  that  would  hold  soup.  Indeed,  there  were 
strange  vessels  on  the  Tokio  tables  at  times,  and  the  con- 
fusion as  to  the  purposes  of  European  earthenware 
utensils  gave  foreign  guests  various  sensations  of  mirth, 
astonishment,  and  even  horror. 

In  the  early  days  of  the  kindergarten,  foreigners 
traveling  in  Japan  went  to  the  hospitals  and  to  the 
chemists  for  their  beefsteaks  and  their  beer.  This  was 
because  Japan  was  Buddhist,  and  the  inhabitants  gen- 
erally would  have  nothing  to  do  with  either  of  these 
things  until  medical  men  introduced  them.  These 
physicians  and  surgeons,  with  their  ideas  acquired 
abroad,  were  shocking  infidels  in  the  eyes  of  the  popu- 
lace at  first.  But  when  the  "  infidels  "  pointed  out  that 
the  large  and  fair  and  strong  barbarians,  who  "  knew 
everything,"  ate  beef  and  drank  beer — and  did  not  have 
the  cholera — the  natives  gave  heed.  Now  one  finds  beef 
and  beer  the  country  over,  especially  beer. 

The  telegraph  pole  began  to  appeal  to  the  Japanese 
about  this  time.  They  looked  upon  it  as  a  sacred  Shinto 
emblem — a  thing  of  beauty,  an  evidence  of  civilization 
that  should  adorn  their  highways.  Therefore  they 
started  to  cut  down  the  cryptomeria,  the  glorious  giants 
that  lined  both  sides  of  the  great  roads  of  the  Empire, 
to  replace  them  with  the  poles,  "  after  the  foreign  way," 
but  foreigners  protested  so  vigorously  that  the  re- 
formers desisted. 

It  was  hard  for  the  Japanese  to  drink  milk,  however, 
harder  than  it  is  for  Americans  to  eat  high  game.  But 

[35] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

here,  too,  the  medical  man  prevailed.  Foreigners  drank 
milk,  therefore  the  natives  would.  Officials  set  the  ex- 
ample nobly.  Every  morning  at  eleven  o'clock  the  milk- 
man called  at  the  various  Government  bureaus  and  made 
his  ostentatious  rounds.  Not  an  official  escaped.  Each 
one  received  his  proper  portion  of  the  potent  potion, 
and  drank  it — a  liqueur  glassful — drank  it  like  a  man. 
At  the  "  Kaitakushi  Jo  Gakko,"  or  Girls'  School,  be- 
longing to  the  Colonization  Bureau  in  Sappuro,  on 
the  northern  island  of  Yezo,  the  young  women  early 
learned  to  wonder  at  the  ways  of  foreigners.  The  mis- 
tress of  the  dormitories  made  each  drink  a  mixture  of 
egg  and  claret,  like  our  claret-flip,  every  night  before 
retiring.  The  girls  did  not  like  it,  but  "  no  flip,  no 
futon  "  was  the  order,  and  up  so  far  north  as  Sappuro 
futon  (quilts)  are  desirable  at  night. 

With  the  coming  of  the  railways  and  the  street  cars 
there  were  many  things  for  the  grown-up  kindergart- 
ner  to  learn.  One  was  time.  They  had  had  the  most 
indefinite  appreciation  of  that.  It  was  odd  to  them  that 
trains  would  not  wait,  that  12.0  would  not  do  well 
enough  for  the  11.45,  or  that  the  engineer  could  be  so 
absurd  as  to  start  up  at  3.29  exactly.  To  the  native 
mind,  "  exactly  "  did  not  mean  "  exactly  exactly,"  it 
meant  approximately,  that  is  to  within  thirty  minutes 
or  an  hour,  or  on  the  same  morning  or  afternoon. 

The  trams,  too,  were  disobliging.  They  kept  to  a 
regular  route,  and  would  not  diverge  for  those  who 
wished  to  do  a  little  shopping  a  quarter  of  a  mile  or  so 
round  this  corner  or  round  that.  The  guard?  had  a 

[36] 


IN    THE    KINDERGARTEN    DAYS 

hard  time  of  it  trying  to  explain  clearly  that  a  train 
was  different  from  a  jin-riki-sha.  Guards  at  the  rail- 
way stations  had  their  troubles  also.  The  natives  per- 
sisted in  leaving  their  clogs  outside  when  entering  cars, 
just  as  they  were  accustomed  to  do  when  entering  a 
house.  It  was  a  great  bother  for  the  guard  to  get  all 
the  clogs  into  the  coaches  before  the  train  started.  He 
could  not  pretend  to  sort  them,  and  pairs  that  should 
have  gone  half-way  only  often  went  to  the  end  of  the 
line. 

As  soon  as  the  dress-suit  and  the  frock-coat  had 
established  themselves  in  favor  along  with  the  white 
gloves,  which  for  some  time  all  officials  wore  at  their  re- 
spective bureaus  in  the  morning,  they  became  imperative. 
A  certain  General  of  the  United  States  Army,  who 
chanced  to  be  in  Tokio  at  the  time  of  the  Mikado's 
Chrysanthemum  Show,  learned  the  value  in  which  the 
Japanese  held  the  frock-coat.  (The  show,  by  the  bye,  is 
far  and  away  the  most  wonderful  of  its  kind  in  the  world, 
one  of  the  single  plants  there  has  over  six  hundred 
blossoms  growing  on  it.)  The  General  loved  flowers, 
and  admired  the  "  kiku,"  as  the  Japanese  call  the  chrys- 
anthemums. He  had  an  invitation  to  go  to  the  show, 
but  his  frock-coat  was  in  Yokohama,  and  there  was  no 
time  to  get  it.  Without  one,  nobody  not  possessing 
wings  could  get  in,  and  even  then  he  would  not  be  al- 
lowed to  alight.  So  the  General,  not  a  thin  man,  bor- 
rowed a  coat  from  one  of  the  Japanese  officials  at  the 
Foreign  Office.  Thus  arrayed  he  was  a  picture  to  re- 
member. The  only  wonder  greater  than  that  the  Gen- 

[37] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

eral  got  into  that  coat  is  that  he  was  able  to  get  out. 
But  he  saw  the  flowers.  After  that,  so  long  as  he  stayed 
in  Japan,  he  would  not  go  across  the  road  unless  he  had 
a  frock-coat  ready  for  emergencies. 

The  Empress  set  the  new  fashion  for  women,  and  ap- 
peared at  Chirini's  Circus  in  magnificent  "  yofuku,"  or 
foreign  dress,  which  she  had  ordered  from  Berlin.  She 
had  also  a  German  Master  of  Ceremonies  to  educate  the 
court  in  the  art  of  how  to  behave  though  uncomfortable. 
Corsets  and  all  came  with  the  new  apparel,  and  it  was 
rather  difficult  at  first  to  persuade  the  wearers  to  use 
them  right  side  up,  the  Japanese  figure  being  somewhat 
of  an  inversion. 

With  foreign  dress  came  the  idea  that  a  woman  was 
an  individual  rather  than  merely  a  thing,  and  that  she 
should  receive  consideration.  In  her  native  kimono  she 
had  always  stepped  aside  that  the  men  might  go  first. 
Men  had  gone  first  always  in  all  things.  But  with  the 
aid  of  the  yofuku  Japan  was  able  to  illustrate  the  idea 
that  women  should  take  precedence.  Chivalry  depended 
on  the  petticoat,  and  as  chivalry  was  a  fine  thing  in  the 
West,  the  Japanese  must  have  it.  So  in  skirts  the  Jap- 
anese lady  led  the  way,  and  received  attentions  that  be- 
wildered her,  for  never  before  had  she  spoken  to  a  man 
other  than  her  husband,  except  at  the  distance  of  several 
mats,  and  with  the  greatest  possible  formality. 

She  had  dancing  lessons,  too,  for  the  Government  saw 
that  balls  were  an  institution  in  all  foreign  capitals,  and 
naturally  it  wished  Japan's  representatives  to  be  pre- 
pared to  enjoy  them  in  the  proper  spirit.  All  the 

[38] 


IN    THE    KINDERGARTEN    DAYS 

Cabinet  Ministers,  the  Governor  of  Tokio,  and  the  great 
swells  generally,  each  gave  a  ball  every  winter,  and  the 
officials  went  as  part  of  their  duty,  but  it  was  hard  work. 
The  floors  of  the  ballroom  were  so  slippery.  It  was 
much  more  fun  to  take  a  run  and  to  slide  across  them 
as  boys  go  on  the  ice  than  to  spin  about  top  fashion, 
holding  a  woman  round  the  waist  for  the  first  time,  and 
dancing  with  her  publicly.  It  must  have  been  strange 
for  a  gentleman  of  Japan  who  had  never  so  much  as 
touched  a  woman's  hand  before  in  his  life,  and  had  never 
paid  even  a  formal  call  on  women-folk.  Except  with 
geisha  at  some  dinner  or  other,  he  had  never  had  con- 
versation with  a  woman  other  than  members  of  his  house- 
hold, yet  here  he  was  with  his  arm  round  a  woman  he 
had  seen  for  the  first  time  that  evening,  who  was  fully  as 
embarrassed  as  he,  for  she  knew  how  to  talk  to  other 
women  only,  and  he  must  whirl  round  and  round  to 
music  that  was  altogether  unintelligible  to  him,  and  must 
try  to  be  entertaining  at  the  same  time.  Truly  Euro- 
pean civilization  was  wonderful! 

The  members  of  the  staff  at  the  "  Gwaimusho,"  the 
Foreign  Office,  had  to  pay  particular  attention  to  all 
things  relating  to  European  customs,  for  they  were  to 
make  up  the  various  diplomatic  corps  abroad.  So  they 
learned  French,  frock-coats,  dress-suits,  and  dancing,  as 
hard  as  they  could.  English  they  knew,  of  course,  for 
all  the  schools  taught  that  more  than  any  other  one  sub- 
ject. French  they  needed  for  the  Court,  and  for  diplo- 
macy, and  to  read  the  names  of  the  strange  things 
they  had  to  eat.  They  mastered  these  details  with  re- 

[39] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

markable  thoroughness,  and  to-day  the  Japanese  diplo- 
mat is  at  his  ease  the  world  over — an  interesting  fact 
when  one  considers  all  his  country  has  had  to  learn  to 
teach  him,  and  the  short  time  she  had  in  which  both  to 
learn  to  teach  and  to  do  the  teaching.  He  should  be  as 
proud  as  one  can  be,  righteously.  A  glimpse  at  the  past 
must  make  him  so. 

Less  than  twoscore  years  ago  the  provinces  of  Japan 
were  under  great  barons,  or  daimiyos,  who  in  turn  were 
under  the  Shogun,  the  political  ruler  of  the  country. 
The  Shogun  indeed  acknowledged  the  Mikado  as  the 
supreme  ruler  of  Dai  Nippon,  but  nevertheless  kept  him 
shut  up  in  Kiyoto  in  absolute  seclusion,  as  a  deity  whom 
it  would  be  blasphemous  even  so  much  as  to  look  upon. 
So  the  people  knew  little  of  the  Mikado  except  as  an  in- 
visible god.  They  knew  the  Shogun  was  the  real  ruler, 
though  they  never  saw  him  either,  for  when  he,  traveled 
along  any  street  or  any  road  the  advance  guard  closed 
all  houses,  ordered  everyone  to  go  within  and  bow  to  the 
ground,  and  forbade  so  much  as  peeping.  The  retain- 
ers would  have  cut  down  anyone  whom  they  had  so  much 
as  suspected  of  looking  out. 

Shoguns  had  ruled  as  Mayors  of  the  Palace,  and 
Prime  Ministers  and  Generalissimos,  since  the  middle  of 
the  twelfth  century,  but  an  historian  discovered  that 
formerly  the  Mikado  had  ruled  actually  as  well  as  theo- 
retically. This,  with  the  rise  of  Shintoism,  the  ancient 
mythological  cult  of  Japan,  and  the  growing  jealousy 
of  the  Tokugawa  family,  which  held  the  Shogunate  from 
1603  to  1867,  and  the  arrival  of  the  foreigners  who 

[40] 


IN    THE    KINDERGARTEN    DAYS 

came  in  after  Commodore  Perry  had  made  a  treaty  with 
the  Shogun  in  1854,  brought  about  a  revolution  which 
ended  in  the  disappearance  of  the  Shoguns  for  good  and 
all,  and  the  reappearance  of  the  Mikado  after  an  in- 
visibility of  seven  centuries. 

Since  then  Japan  has  taught  the  whole  world  decora- 
tion. Japanese  art  is  in  evidence  everywhere.  How 
innumerable  are  the  homes  it  has  helped  to  beautify ! 
Professor  Chamberlain  says :  "  In  the  days  before  Jap- 
anese art  became  known  to  Europe,  people  then  used  to 
consider  it  essential  to  have  the  patterns  on  plates, 
cushions,  and  what  not,  arranged  with  geometrical  ac- 
curacy. If  on  the  right  hand  there  was  a  Cupid  looking 
to  the  left,  then  on  the  left  hand  there  must  be  a  Cupid 
of  exactly  the  same  size  looking  to  the  right,  and  the 
chief  feature  of  the  design  was  invariably  in  the  exact 
centre.  The  Japanese  artisan  artists  have  shown  us  that 
this  mechanical  symmetry  does  not  make  for  beauty. 
They  have  taught  us  the  charm  of  irregularity,  and  if 
the  world  owe  them  but  this  one  lesson,  Japan  may  yet 
be  proud  of  what  she  has  accomplished." 

The  Japanese  developed  the  jin-riki-sha,  which  has 
now  come  to  be  the  ordinary  means  of  personal  trans- 
portation in  the  chief  cities  of  the  Far  East,  in  China, 
Straits  Settlements,  India,  and  even  in  Africa.  They 
lead  the  world  far  and  away  in  biology.  They  are  in 
the  very  first  rank  of  chemists,  and  their  schools  have 
some  features  that  other  seats  of  learning  lack.  There 
is,  for  instance,  in  the  "  Dai  Gakko,"  or  Imperial  Uni- 
versity, in  Tokio,  a  Chair  of  Sanitary  Engineering, 

[41] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 
(formerly  held  by  Professor  W.  K.  Burton),  and  a  chair 
of  Seismology. 

Then,  too,  the  Japanese  have  the  largest  battleships 
afloat,  and  an  army  that  is  ready  the  moment  it  is  needed. 
On  the  march  to  Peking  this  army  led,  showing  the  way 
to  the  Europeans,  even  to  the  Russians,  and  its  com- 
missariat and  hospital  departments  are  the  best  the  world 
has  seen — much  the  best.  In  diplomacy  and  statecraft 
the  Japanese  have  triumphed,  as  recent  treaties  with 
Europeans  show,  and,  to  crown  all,  only  last  year  Japan, 
by  special  treaty  between  Viscount  Hayashi  and  the 
Marquis  of  Lansdowne,  became  England's  ally  in  the 
East,  so  that  she  ranks  now  on  an  equal  footing  with 
the  first  of  the  first-class  European  powers. 


CHAPTER   FIVE 

THE  HONORABLE  BATH 

GARDNER  made  a  study  of  baths  while  he  was 
in  Japan.  What  he  did  not  know  about  them 
when  he  left  the  country  was  exactly  enough  to 
make  him  a  native  bathing-suit.  It  is  odd,  though, 
that  he  should  have  taken  to  the  "  baths  "  so  enthusi- 
astically when  one  recalls  his  first  experience  in  a  Tokio 
bath-tub. 

This  is  what  he  told  some  globe-trotters  at  the  Yoko- 
hama United  Club  one  day.  They  were  asking  for 
points  on  "  doing  "  Japan. 

"  I  had  just  run  up  to  Tokio  to  see  a  man  in  the  Im- 
perial University,"  he  explained.  "  He  wasn't  at  home, 
but  a  young  student  who  was  taking  care  of  his  place 
greeted  me  most  hospitably.  He  said: '  Oh,  you  are  just 
from  a  long  voyage  and  have  a  letter  for  the  professor. 
I  am  a  thousand  times  sorry  that  he  is  not  at  home.  He 
has  gone  to  Nikko  for  a  period  of  two  weeks.  But  come 
in,  nevertheless.  I  am  a  most  stupid  and  contemptible 
substitute,  but  I  shall  do  my  idiotic  best  to  explain 
Japan  to  you.' 

"  He  made  a  noble  beginning,  I  assure  you.  The  first 
lesson  was  chopsticks.  He  taught  me  so  well  that  I  was 
expert  in  half  an  hour.  Then  he  fed  me  with  seaweed 
and  raw  fish.  I'll  tell  you  about  that  later.  And  finally 

[43] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

he  boiled  me.  I  am  perfectly  serious — he  boiled  me. 
This  is  how  it  was. 

"  The  custom  here,  you  know,  is  to  bathe  every  after- 
noon. My  young  friend's  bath-tub  was  out  on  the  lawn. 
It  was  the  regulation  Japanese  tub,  an  oval  arrangement 
about  as  high  as  it  is  long  and  a  foot  longer  than  it  is 
wide.  In  one  end  there  is  a  stovepipe  running  down 
through  the  bottom.  The  top  of  this  pipe  is  just  even 
with  the  rim  of  the  tub.  At  the  bottom  there  is  a  grate 
which  holds  the  charcoal  fire  that  heats  the  water.  The 
idea  is  to  get  into  the  tub  when  the  water  is  warmed  a 
little  and  then  sit  there  while  the  temperature  rises 
gradually.  This  rising  process  is  most  effective. 

"  The  Japanese  can  stand  it  until  the  thermometer 
shows  125  to  128  degrees.  So  can  I,  now,  after  I've 
been  at  it  a  year,  but  it's  something  to  be  worked  up  to 
gradually.  The  first  time  you  try  a  Japanese  bath,  95 
degrees  will  do  much  better.  I  was  a  little  shy  at  first 
about  going  on  the  lawn,  but,  as  there  was  no  one  except 
the  student  in  sight,  I  ran  out  and  jumped  into  the  tub. 
It  was  fine!  the  blue  sky  overhead  and  the  wide,  wide 
world  around  me.  '  This  is  luxury,'  I  said ;  '  I  shall  ap- 
ply for  naturalization  papers  to-morrow  and  settle  down 
for  the  rest  of  my  life  in  Japan.  I  would  not  leave  this 
for  heaven '  (later  on  I  thought  of  another  place). 
And  so  I  sat  there  thinking  of  the  things  I  should  do  in 
this  perfect  land,  and  of  the  fun  doing  them  would  be. 

"  But  while  I  was  musing  the  fire  burned.  I  didn't 
notice  it  at  first;  not  until  I  observed  something  else. 
That  was  that  this  young  student's  wife  and  her  maid 

[44] 


THE    HONORABLE    BATH 

had  come  out  while  I  was  in  my  tub  and  were  busy 
washing  rice  by  the  well,  not  far  away.  'That's  ex- 
traordinary inadvertence,'  I  said  to  myself,  or  words  to 
that  effect ;  '  why  didn't  that  bally  rat  tell  them  that  I 
was  out  here  in  the  tub?  I'd  like  to  wring  his  neck! 
They'll  be  gone  soon,  I  hope ! '  But  I  was  hot.  So  was 
the  water,  and  it  grew  hotter !  '  They're  not  in  a  hurry 
with  that  rice,'  I  remarked.  '  Confound  a  country 
where  it  takes  them  all  day  to  wash  rice ! '  I'd  forgot 
about  its  being  heaven,  you  see.  Then  I  said  harsh 
things — inwardly,  of  course — but  it  did  no  good.  It 
didn't  cool  the  water,  nor  me,  a  bit. 

"  The  water  behaved  badly.  It  didn't  warm  up 
gradually  to  the  boiling  point,  thereby  allowing  me  to 
simmer  into  mock  missionary  broth.  It  *  het '  itself  up 
by  jerks.  It  would  simmer  gently,  then  drop  about  two 
degrees,  just  enough  to  fool  me  into  the  idea  that  the 
fire  was  going  out,  and  that  I  should  be  comfortable, 
and  then  it  would  buck  up  six  points,  and  I'd  have  a 
touch  of  Hades. 

"  And  still  they  washed  that  rice.  If  I  could  have 
yelled  I'd  have  felt  better,  but  I  was  afraid.  I  thought 
they  would  turn  round  and  see  me.  Then  I  tried  to 
sneak  to  the  house,  but  just  as  I'd  be  half-way  out,  one 
of  them  would  look  round,  or  look  as  if  she  were  going 
to  look  round,  and  down  I'd  duck.  Every  time  I 
dropped  I  felt  my  hide  peel  off,  just  as  in  the  stories  they 
used  to  tell  of  fellows  being  skinned  alive  in  the  West- 
ern Plains  by  Injuns. 

"  All  the  water  was  too  hot,  but  at  the  surface  it  felt 
[45] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

like  a  red-hot  ring  bound  to  my  body.  I  tried  to  stir 
it  up  to  equalize  the  heat,  but  motion  was  painful.  I 
felt  as  if  I  couldn't  move.  I  hadn't  enough  resolution. 
You  see,  I  was  nearly  done.  So  I  braced  my  feet  against 
the  little  partition  that  serves  as  a  fender  to  the  iron 
pipe,  and  tried  to  endure  it.  The  water  grew  hotter, 
and  I  braced  harder,  until  there  was  a  crack  and  a  splash. 
The  fender  gave  way,  and  my  foot  went  plumb  against 
the  sizzling  pipe. 

"  It  was  just  then  that  I  forgot  all  about  the  clothes 
that  I  didn't  have  on.  I  also  forgot  about  the  rice  wash- 
ers, and  that  they  could  see  me.  I  forgot  everything, 
in  fact,  except  that  I  was  boiled  almost  to  death.  As  I 
jumped,  I  slipped  backward  on  the  edge  of  the  tub, 
rolled  round  on  the  back  of  my  neck  for  a  second  or  two, 
though  it  seemed  like  as  many  hours,  got  my  feet  on  the 
ground  at  last,  and  then  rushed  into  the  house  just  in 
time  to  meet  two  American  missionary  ladies,  who  had 
called  not  knowing  that  the  professor  was  out  of  town. 

"  They  didn't  seem  to  be  shocked.  I  had  sense  enough 
left  to  notice  that.  Afterwards  I  heard  that  one  of 
them  had  remarked  how  red  I  was.  Well,  I  was  embar- 
rassed." 

After  a  boy  had  seen  to  certain  orders,  Gardner  con- 
tinued :  "  Now,  if  you  fellows  want  to  get  at  the  real 
Japan — Japan  au  naturel — be  sure  and  take  plenty  of 
baths  while  here.  The  bath  is  the  best  point  of  view 
that  you  can  find  to  study  human  nature  from.  In  the 
treaty  ports  you  will  hear  some  statements  about  the 
Japanese  that  are  not  accurate,  so  hold  your  judgment 

[46] 


THE    HONORABLE    BATH 

in  suspension,  at  least  till  you  have  made  a  tour  of  the 
country,  and  have  taken,  say,  one  thousand  baths.  Then 
let  the  folk  you  meet  in  Kobe,  Yokohama,  and  Nagasaki 
tell  you  all  they  know,  and  you  will  understand  them. 

"  Some  of  the  foreign  residents  can  give  you  many 
points,  but  others  will  supply  misinformation.  When 
you've  had  your  baths  you'll  be  an  expert.  Japan,  as 
seen  from  the  bath-tub,  is  the  real  Japan.  If  you  don't 
know  enough  to  write  a  book  when  you  come  back  it  will 
be  because  you  were  struck  blind  early  in  the  visit. 
You'll  have  chances  for  your  camera,  too,  and  you  must 
work  at  your  sketch-book  perpetually.  Take  notes,  and 
come  back  ripe  for  fame. 

"  It  is  remarkable  that  no  one  has  yet  '  written  up ' 
Japan  from  the  bath-tub  side.  Even  Lafcadio  Hearn, 
who  is  more  sympathetic  than  anyone  else,  so  far,  among 
the  men  who  write  about  the  country,  pays  small  atten- 
tion to  the  tub.  Basil  Hall  Chamberlain,  however,  who  is 
a  mine  of  learning,  has  something  to  say  on  the  subject. 
He  tells  of  the  bathers  at  Kawarayu,  near  Ikao,  who  stay 
in  the  tub  a  month  at  a  time,  with  stones  in  their  laps 
to  keep  their  bodies  from  floating  when  they  are  asleep. 
He  says  the  tub  is  one  of  two  things  the  Japanese 
haven't  borrowed  from  other  countries.  The  other  is 
their  poetry.  It  hardly  would  be  worth  your  while  to  go 
in  for  the  poetry  to  any  extent.  It  would  take  you  five 
years  to  learn  to  read  it,  and  twice  as  long  to  learn  to 
compose  it  yourself.  But  with  hot  baths  it  is  different. 
You  can  learn  to  take  them  in  a  few  weeks;  if  you  will 
profit  by  my  experience,  do  not  begin  too  hard  or  be  too 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

shy.  As  I  said  before,  your  native  friends  are  likely  to 
be  in  water  at  115  degrees  to  120  degrees,  that  would 
take  the  hide  right  off  a  beginner.  I  got  so  tough  after 
a  few  months'  practice  that  I  could  sit  still  in  water  at 
125  degrees.  I  couldn't  move  round,  of  course,  and  I 
had  to  be  very  slow  getting  in  and  out,  but  I  could  stand 
the  heat  even  on  my  face. 

"  If  I  were  you  I'd  get  a  student  from  the  university 
to  act  as  guide.  He  would  be  trustworthy,  and  would 
be  good  company  too.  Don't  have  much  to  do  with  the 
professional  guides  at  the  treaty  ports.  They  may 
take  advantage  of  you.  When  you've  found  a  student 
that  speaks  English  well — and  most  of  them  do,  though 
in  an  amusingly  formal  way — start  off  for  the  west 
coast.  Travel  the  unfrequented  routes  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, by  that  I  mean  routes  that  foreigners  do  not  take. 
You  can  find  hundreds  of  charming  places  that  few  for- 
eigners have  seen.  And  in  many  of  these  places  there  are 
hot  springs  and  mineral  baths.  You  must  see  some  of 
the  more  frequented  baths,  of  course,  such  as  Atami, 
Hakone,  Ojigoku,  and  Kusatsu,  even  if  they  are  on 
beaten  paths. 

"  If  any  of  you  fellows  have  rheumatism  or  gout  go 
to  Kusatsu,  4000  feet  up  and  about  thirty  miles  from 
Ikao.  Kusatsu  will  cure  everything  but  love-sickness. 
That  is  the  burden  of  the  song  the  maids  who  rub  your 
back  and  take  charge  of  your  clothes  sing  to  you  while 
you  bathe.  Always  watch  the  people  about  you. 
You'll  see  everyone  in  the  neighborhood  every  day — • 
villagers  and  the  visitors  alike,  men  and  women,  young 

[48] 


THE    HONORABLE    BATH 

and  old,  large  and  small,  every  morning  and  evening. 
All  come  into  the  village  square,  disrobe,  and  let  them- 
selves down  gently  into  the  huge  tank  of  running 
water. 

"  Then  the  news  of  the  day  and  the  gossip  of  the 
neighborhood  are  discussed  from  every  view  point. 
Listen  hard,  and  have  your  guide  mix  up  in  the  talk  as 
much  as  possible.  Get  him  to  repeat  to  you  all  that  he 
remembers  after  the  bath  is  over.  Don't  talk  to  him  in 
the  bath,  or  the  neighbors  will  crowd  round  to  hear  the 
queer  sounds  you  make.  They  will  stop  talking  of  their 
own  doings,  which  are  what  you  wish  to  become  familiar 
with,  and  will  talk  about  your  skin  and  hair  and  eyes, 
how  large  you  are,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  When  you 
go  back  to  your  hotel  you  can  have  a  lesson  in  Japanese 
from  your  guide,  and  incidentally  teach  him  a  little 
English,  which  is  what  he's  really  after. 

"  One  reason  why  these  baths  are  good  for  studying 
native  life  is  that  they  are  the  only  places  where  the 
sexes  come  together  for  general  conversation.  The 
Government  says  that  the  presence  of  women  keeps  the 
men  from  talking  politics  too  much,  and  though  mis- 
sionaries say  that  the  custom  is  shocking,  the  Govern- 
ment does  not  interfere.  *  We  have  been  bathing  this 
way  for  two  thousand  years  without  scandal,  why  should 
we  change?'  the  natives  say;  'there  is  no  evil  in  the 
custom  to  those  whose  minds  are  free  from  evil.'  So 
they  ignore  the  pleadings  of  the  '  sky  pilots,'  and  the 
children  of  Japan  continue  bathing  in  just  the  sort  of 
suits  they  wore  when  they  were  born." 

[49] 


CHAPTER    SIX 

THE  AUGUST  DEPARTURE 

SPEAKING  of  feasts  and  funerals,"  said  Gard- 
ner to  the  men  who  had  listened  to  his  words 
on    "  bath,"    and    were     sitting    with    him    at 
One  Hundred  Steps  the  following  day,  "  I  saw  an  old 
man  roasting  while  his   family   sat  round  eating  and 
drinking  and  making  merry.     It  was  over  on  the  west 
coast,  where  cremation  is  much  in  vogue. 

"  It  was  a  strange  sight  to  me,  for  I  had  not  been 
in  the  country  long  and  did  not  know  anything  about 
the  native  funeral  customs.  The  old  man  who  was 
burning  had  been  our  neighbor.  He  was  Okashi's 
father.  That  is  how  I  happened  to  be  at  the  funeral. 

"  He  was  eighty-eight  years  old.  This  is  the  lucky 
age  in  Japan,  because  of  the  way  the  number  is  written." 
Then  Gardner  made  marks  on  the  top  of  his  tray  with 
his  chopsticks  dipped  in  shoyu — two  little  dabs  point- 

"    -    B\ 

4-  -  10  >  88 

-  -  8J 

Hr    "~  rice -bulled- 

ing  up  at  each  other  for  eight ;  then,  below,  a  cross  for 
ten;  and  below  this  two  more  little  dabs.  The  column 
then  read  eight,  ten,  eight.  "  Now  if  the  four  dabs 

[50] 


THE    AUGUST    DEPARTURE 

were  brought  close  to  the  cross  in  the  middle,  the  eighty- 
eight  would  change  into  the  character  '  rice.'  The 
dabs  representing  hulled  kernels,  and  the  cross,  a  bit 
of  the  sieve,  the  symbol  for  plenty,  so  the  man  or  woman 
reaching  the  age  of  eighty-eight  is  held  in  particular 
esteem,  and  my  friend's  funeral  was  more  elaborate  than 
the  usual  affair  because  of  his  lucky  age. 

"  Crowds  came  to  the  house,  for  everybody  that  knew 
anybody  knew  Takaiyanagi  Inkiyo.  They  came  in  and 
bowed  before  the  household  shrine,  where  his  name  and 
the  age  of  such  good  omen  were  inscribed.  As  they 
bowed  they  pressed  their  hands  together  as  Christians 
do  in  prayer.  They  reverenced  his  spirit,  and  by  their 
obeisance  they  implied  that  they  held  his  memory  in  as 
high  esteem  as  they  had  held  him  when  he  was  a  living 
man,  but  they  did  not  worship,  as  some  folk  would  wish 
to  have  you  believe.  Then  they  laid  their  offerings  on 
the  floor  below  the  little  image  in  its  gilded  case.  Every- 
one brought  something.  The  well-to-do  gave  money, 
others  cakes  or  wine,  and  others  bamboo  vases  full  of 
flowers.  Some  of  these  were  red  and  some  were  white. 

"  Meanwhile  the  good  wife  of  the  house  was  busy  in 
the  kitchen  preparing  food  for  the  guests.  In  neigh- 
boring kitchens,  too,  the  women  helped  with  this.  In 
my  house  cooking  began  early  in  the  morning,  and  the 
maids  kept  at  it  all  day  long.  When  the  cooking  was 
over  there  was  more  food  than  ever  I  saw  before:  raw 
fish,  sugared  fish,  cuttle-fish,  seaweed  soups,  and  cold 
boiled  rice  rolled  up  in  seaweed,  with  a  dab  of  horse- 
radish in  the  center. 

[51] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

"  The  feasting  lasted  till  noon  next  day,  when  it  was 
time  for  the  ceremony  to  begin.  Priests  came  from  an 
Hongwanji  temple  near  at  hand,  and  saw  the  old  man's 
body  put  away  properly  into  a  jar  shaped  like  a  huge 
flower-pot,  with  fragrant  leaves  pressed  in  round  about 
it.  Then  they  stood  the  jar  over  in  the  corner  for  the 
night,  and  covered  it  with  a  white  cloth,  so  that  it  looked 
quite  like  a  bit  of  furniture  sewed  up  for  the  summer. 

"  When  all  was  ready  for  the  procession  the  next  day, 
the  mourners  put  the  jar  into  a  white  box,  and  placed 
the  white  cloth  over  it  as  before  (white  is  the  mourning 
color  in  Japan),  and  some  white-robed  attendants  from 
the  temple  carried  it  off  on  a  stretcher  on  their  shoulders. 

"  Just  ahead  of  the  jar  walked  a  company  of  singers 
with  bells.  They  were  in  white  also,  in  fact  we  were  all 
in  white  except  Okashi  Kintaro.  He  had  on  a  wonderful 
dress-suit,  made  after  the  foreign  pattern,  much  too 
large  for  him,  and  lined  with  pink  silk.  The  trousers, 
which  he  had  rolled  up  some  eighteen  inches  on  each  leg, 
fitted  as  though  they  were  on  '  hind-side  first.'  His  hat 
was  odd,  too.  It  was  of  the  good  old  stovepipe  design, 
straight  at  the  sides,  with  a  broad  and  flat  brim.  It 
was  fortunate  for  Okashi  that  he  had  ears,  otherwise  his 
hat  would  have  dropped  down  on  to  his  shoulders.  Alto- 
gether there  was  a  homelessness  and  lonesomeness  in  his 
appearance,  as  he  ambled  along  in  this  outfit,  that  was  as 
distressing  as  it  was  amusing.  I  had  the  honor  to  be 
in  the  procession  too.  I  wore  a  white  duck  suit,  white 
canvas  shoes,  and  a  white  helmet,  and  rode  in  a  jin- 
riki-sha. 

[52] 


THE   AUGUST    DEPARTURE 

"  At  the  temple  the  bearers  put  the  jar  on  an  altar, 
and  a  dozen  priests  chanted  a  service.  While  the  chant- 
ing went  on,  each  guest  stepped  forward  in  turn,  and, 
after  bowing  to  the  priests,  knelt  before  the  bier,  and, 
salaaming  quite  to  the  floor,  took  a  pinch  of  powdered 
incense  from  a  bowl  and  dropped  it  into  a  charcoal 
brazier,  in  which  a  tiny  fire  burned.  Then  with  another 
prolonged  salaam  the  mourning  guest  returned  to  his 
seat.  This  was  a  sort  of  '  good-by '  to  the  body  and  a 
salutation  to  the  spirit  of  the  ancient  gentleman. 

"  When  my  turn  came  I  was  so  awkward  as  to  put 
my  fingers  into  the  brazier,  thereby  burning  them,  and 
then,  in  confusion,  I  put  too  much  incense  on  the  fire, 
which  made  such  a  smoke  that  the  priests  and  I  had  a 
coughing  fit. 

"  Afterwards  I  explained  that  we  always  did  that  way 
at  home.  We  burned  our  fingers  a  little  to  purify  them, 
and  the  last  man  always  dumped  on  all  the  incense  that 
was  left  so  that  the  corpse  wouldn't  think  we  were  un- 
generous. Since  then  I  have  been  regarded  in  Etchiu 
as  one  learned  in  holy  things. 

"  After  this  ceremony  and  the  sneezing  were  over  we 
took  the  dead  man  to  a  crematory,  the  only  kind  of 
building  in  Etchiu  that  has  a  chimney.  Fire  was 
already  burning  under  the  oven,  and  the  younger 
priests  were  setting  a  banquet  more  elaborate,  if  pos- 
sible, than  had  been  served  at  the  house.  At  one  side 
stood  several  tall  vases  of  pure  white  porcelain  full  of 
sake,  and,  near  these,  stacks  of  shallow  drinking  cups 
of  red  lacquer. 

[53] 


THE    HEART    OF   JAPAN 

"  We  seated  ourselves  on  small  cushions  laid  about  on 
the  soft  matted  floor.  I  sat  like  the  others,  kneeling  on 
my  heels.  Okashi  San  protested  much.  '  You  are  a  for- 
eigner,' said  he,  *  and  are  doing  me  such  an  over- 
whelming honor  by  coming  here  to-day  that  I  cannot 
reconcile  myself  to  the  idea  of  your  placing  your  august 
body  in  a  position  so  uncomfortable.  We  Japanese  are 
used  to  it.  Augustly  condescend  to  act  in  accordance 
with  the  request  which  I  have  had  the  gross  effrontery 
to  make ! '  I  persisted,  however,  in  sitting  native  fash- 
ion, and  had  cramps  in  each  leg  afterwards,  much  to  the 
amusement  of  the  other  guests. 

"  Just  then  the  priests  took  the  body  from  the  jar, 
and,  having  wrapped  it  carefully  in  white,  they  put  it 
on  an  iron  grating  and  slid  it  far  back  into  the  furnace, 
though  where  all  could  get  a  good  view  of  it.  The 
flames  curled  round  it  fiercely  at  first  and  then  almost 
tenderly,  as  though  caressing  it.  Now  and  then  they 
would  lash  furiously  and  tie  themselves  in  fantastic  knots 
about  the  limbs,  which  bent  and  unbent  and  quivered 
as  though  life  were  not  yet  extinct  and  they  could  feel 
the  terrible  heat. 

"  So  while  the  venerable  departed  writhed  and  roasted 
in  the  flames,  we  banqueted.  It  was  grewsome,  I  con- 
fess, especially  when  one  of  the  old  man's  family  would 
go  to  the  oven  and  turn  him  over  with  an  iron  rod  to 
*  do '  him  better  on  the  other  side,  or  would  straighten 
him  out  so  that  the  fire  could  get  at  him  better.  I  had 
always  been  in  favor  of  cremation,  but  I'll  be  hanged 
if  I  liked  sitting  there  watching  a  man  kink  up  and  sput- 

[54] 


THE    AUGUST    DEPARTURE 

ter  while  his  relatives  turned  him  as  a  chef  turns  things 
on  a  grill. 

"  I  had  recourse  to  sake  to  steady  my  nerves.  Sake 
is  about  the  strength  of  sherry,  so  that  if  you  drink 
enough  of  it,  especially  hot  sake,  you  will  produce  an 
effect.  I  produced  one  in  the  crematory.  Every  time 
any  of  the  guests  offered  me  a  cup,  I  took  it,  and 
poured  the  contents  into  me.  It  is  the  custom  to  ex- 
change cups,  you  know.  You  rinse  your  cup  in  a  bowl 
of  water  provided  for  that  purpose  and  offer  it  to  each 
guest  in  turn.  You  must  do  this  once  at  least  to  every- 
one present,  and  you  always  receive  a  cup  in  return. 
There  were  twenty-nine  of  us  at  the  funeral,  and  I  had 
two  drinks  with  each  of  them! 

"  I  told  my  host  that,  when  my  time  came,  he  must 
see  that  I  was  properly  cremated.  He  replied  thc.t  it 
would  be  too  great  an  honor  for  him.  '  You  had  much 
better  come  to  cook  me,'  he  said.  Finally,  we  decided 
that  which  ever  '  augustly  departed '  first,  the  other 
should  burn  him,  and  that  the  town  should  have  sake 
enough  to  swim  in.  We  agreed,  however,  not  to  die  be- 
fore we  were  eighty-eight. 

"  '  Just  sec  how  beautifully  my  father  burns,'  Okashi 
San  said.  '  That  is  because  of  his  lucky  age.' 

*  Waib  till  you  see  me  sizzle,'  I  replied,  '  you  will  be 
amazed.  I  intend  to  go  off  like  a  keg  of  powder.' 

"  Had  either  of  us  caught  fire  that  afternoon  he  would 
have  burned  with  a  blue  flame." 


[55] 


CHAPTER    SEVEN 

THE  GUEST  WHO  COULD  NOT  GO 

JAPANESE    callers    come    early    and    stay   late — 
particularly   if  you,   the   callee,   are   a   foreigner. 
They  like  to  look  at  you.    They  are  easy  enough  to 
entertain,  too,  if  you  do  not  mind  being  stared  at.    But 
they  never  go.     At  least  no  one  but  Dara  Santaro  ever 
went,  and  he  did  so  only  once.     He  could  not  do  so 
again,  for  he  did  not  come  back.     This  achievement  of 
his  (which  was  partly  ours)  emphasizes  the  rule.     Here 
is  the  story. 

Dara  Santaro  was  in  the  habit  of  calling  on  us  on 
Nichiyobi  regularly.  Nichiyobi  is  the  seventh  day  of 
the  Japanese  week,  and  corresponds  to  our  Sunday, 
though  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  religion.  It  is  rather 
jollier  and  happier  than  other  days,  that  is  all.  Gard- 
ner and  I  had  enjoyed  it  in  peace  and  rest  fulness  until 
Dara  discovered  us. 

Nichiyobi  was  our  home  day.  We  were  satisfied  to  be 
by  ourselves.  It  was  always  a  comfort  in  anticipation 
and  a  delight  when  it  arrived.  But  Dara  changed  all 
that.  He  was  the  nephew  of  our  next-door  neighbor,  a 
retired  naval  captain,  who,  though  a  cripple,  was 
courteous  and  kindly  in  the  extreme.  Moreover,  he  spoke 
a  little  English,  which  made  him  the  more  agreeable, 
whereas  Dara  did  not  know  more  than  three  words. 

[56] 


THE   GUEST  WHO   COULD   NOT   GO 

When  Dara  made  his  first  call  we  were  still  snoozing 
on  our  "  futon,"  x  and  he  had  bowed  twelve  times  before 
we  had  got  the  kinks  out  of  our  necks  sufficiently  to 
bow  back  to  him.  Japanese  pillows  are  excellent,  once 
one  is  used  to  them ;  but  they  are  hard  on  the  neck  the 
first  few  years.  Usotsuki,  a  young  student  who  inter- 
preted for  us,  said  Dara  was  extremely  sorry  to  disturb 
us.  Dara's  sorrow  was  manifested  by  a  smile  that 
divided  his  countenance  into  hemispheres.  Our  own  sor- 
row was  as  intense,  but  different. 

We  told  Kintaro  to  make  Dara  comfortable  and  to 
excuse  us  for  a  moment.  Then  we  rolled  out  of  our 
"  nemaki  "  2  and  into  our  boiling  bath.  When  we  came 
out  we  were  red,  and  breakfast  was  ready.  Dara  sat 
with  us  on  his  shinbones  and  heels,  with  his  feet  crossed 
under  him,  and  nearly  added  another  inch  to  his  smile 
in  an  effort  to  eat  an  olive  with  his  knife.  We  did  not 
care  much  for  olives  for  breakfast,  but  Usotsuki  had 
put  them  on  the  table  and  Dara  San  seemed  to  like  them. 

Generally,  too,  we  discarded  knives  and  forks  and  ate 
with  hashi  like  the  natives,  but  this  morning  we  brought 
out  the  English  implements,  thinking  they  might  inter- 
est our  guest.  They  did.  He  ate  everything,  even  but- 
ter, which  is  not  usual  among  the  Japanese.  Indeed,  he 
speared  the  balls  floating  in  the  bowl  of  iced  water  and 
swallowed  them  with  an  indrawn  hiss,  like  the  sound  of  a 
small  sky-rocket.  He  continued  to  eat  until  there  was 
nothing  left  but  the  utensils  and  a  bottle  of  tabasco 
sauce.  He  wept  over  that. 

v  Heavy  quilts.  2  Kimono  for  sleeping. 

[57] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

When  Dara  had  done  complimenting  us  he  smiled  and 
said,  'O  gochiso  sama."  ("Honorable  feast,  sir.") 
From  Usotsuki's  previous  explanation,  which  seemed 
founded  on  antithesis,  we  judged  that  Dara  was  once 
more  expressing  sorrow.  Perhaps  he  had  a  stomach- 
ache. We  were  not  surprised  that  he  should  have 
one.  But  no,  we  had  misjudged  his  smile  a  second 
time. 

"  He  say  very  glad  too  much  eatings,"  Usotsuki  ex- 
plained. 

"  We  did  not  know  he  was  coming  or  we  might  have 
prepared,"  Gardner  remarked.  This  seemed  to  please 
Dara  greatly  when  it  was  translated  to  him,  and  he  said 
he  would  come  again  next  Nichiyobi.  Gardner  told 
him  to  come  any  day  he  liked,  but  Dara  replied  that 
official  duties  hindered  him  except  on  that  one  day. 

Then  he  sat  and  sat,  we  the  meanwhile  wondering 
what  to  do  for  him.  We  showed  him  all  our  foreign 
photographs.  These  interested  him,  and  he  did  us  the 
honor  to  ask  for  the  only  pictures  of  our  parents  that 
we  possessed.  He  smiled  when  we  said  they  were  alto- 
gether too  unworthy  for  us  to  think  of  presenting  them 
to  an  august  guest,  but  he  had  a  puzzled  look  about  the 
eyes. 

Then  we  showed  him  some  books  on  Japan,  over 
which  he  chuckled  like  an  infant.  After  that  we  took 
some  snapshots  of  him.  The  minute  he  faced  the  camera 
his  smile  turned  to  haughtiness,  and  he  looked  like  a 
brazen  image,  which  is  the  proper  Japanese  pose;  but 
when  he  saw  the  negative  in  our  dark  room  a  little  later 

[58] 


THE  GUEST  WHO  COULD  NOT  GO 

he  was  tickled.  We  promised  to  send  him  proofs  in  a 
few  days,  and  he  bowed  and  smiled,  and  stayed. 

Usotsuki  announced  tiffin — always  an  elaborate  meal 
with  us  on  Nichiyobi.  Dara  San  stayed,  and  was  as 
active  as  at  breakfast.  His  compliments  were  loud  and 
long.  As  we  were  fond  of  his  uncle  we  said  nothing, 
but  we  were  eager  for  "  our  Sunday."  We  wanted  to 
lounge  and  stroll  about  the  gardens  of  the  old  temple 
in  which  we  lived,  and  over  into  the  older  temple  which 
we  were  using  as  a  schoolhouse.  We  wanted  to  chat 
together  of  things  at  home,  to  finish  our  letters  and  be 
at  rest.  But  there  were  none  of  these  things  for  us  this 
day,  nor  the  following  Nichiyobi  either,  for  he  remem- 
bered the  promise  which  we  had  quite  forgotten. 

That  second  day  of  visitation  was  not  a  keen  delight. 
Then  came  a  third  and  a  fourth.  What  should  we  do? 
We  could  not  be  rude.  Not  for  a  year's  rent  would  we 
have  disturbed  that  kindly  gentleman  the  captain.  We 
did  not  wish  to  flee.  We  wanted  to  have  our  home  to  our- 
selves this  one  day  in  the  week.  We  must  resort  to 
strategy.  And,  in  fact,  to  use  a  slang  expression,  we 
must  put  up  a  job  on  Dara  Santaro.  Though  out- 
wardly polite  and  friendly,  we  had  concocted  and  con- 
cealed in  our  hearts  a  wicked  scheme.  It  was  done  in  this 
wise : 

As  everyone  knows,  sake  is  the  national  drink  of 
Japan.  Foreign  liquors,  like  foreign  tobacco,  are 
usually  too  strong  for  them.  Dara  knew  nothing  of 
this,  however. 

After  tiffin  No.  4,  we  tried  some  foreign  cigarettes  on 

[69] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

him,  which  he  smoked  until  he  was  a  little  dizzy.  "  Ta- 
baka  yota  "  (Tobacco  drunk)  the  natives  call  the  sensa- 
tion. Then  we  gave  him  some  of  our  sake  highly  sweet- 
ened. He  had  a  curiosity  to  taste  the  foreign  product, 
and,  like  all  Japanese,  he  liked  plenty  of  sweetness. 

We  loaded  his  tumbler  with  syrups,  but  also  with 
liquors,  and,  I  fear,  nearly  three  fingers  of  "  fire  water," 
for  it  was  a  tall  English  glass,  holding  almost  a  pint. 
Our  glasses  held  a  mixture  of  the  same  in  color,  but  in- 
nocent of  dynamite. 

Our  deception  was  base  but  successful.  Dara  smacked 
his  lips  and  smiled  halfway  round  his  head  over  the 
first  swallow.  His  face  reddened  as  he  continued  to  im- 
bibe, but  he  persisted  with  the  courage  of  a  sentenced 
feudal  lord  in  the  days  of  "  hara-kiri."  By  the  time  he 
had  emptied  the  glass,  his  head  stuck  up  through  the 
top  of  his  kimono  like  a  poppy  and  his  smile  drooped  at 
the  ends. 

He  articulated,  "  Taihen  uroshi,  gochiso  sama,  gomen 
na  sai,  syonara,"  1  and  then  sailed  sweetly,  with  many 
curves,  out  through  our  garden,  his  kimono  following 
like  a  comet's  tail,  and  his  clogs  playing  leap-frog  and 
filling  the  air  with  their  wooden  clamor. 

Though  we  have  felt  guilty  ourselves,  we  have  never 
blamed  Dara  Santaro  that  he  did  not  return. 

'Very  good!  Great  feast,  sir!  August  pardon  deign!  Good- 
bye! 


[60] 


GARDNER  and  I  took  a  vacation  of  some  three 
weeks,  and  leaving  Okashi  and  the  west  coast 
made  a  hurried  trip  to  Tokio.  When  we  reached 
there  the  city  seemed  fearfully  European — such  was  the 
effect  of  a  few  months'  experiences  across  the  Empire. 
Tokio  was  now  as  strange  for  its  foreign  features  as  it 
had  been  formerly  for  its  native  characteristics.  We 
were  being  Japanned. 

We  ran  into  some  friends  who  were  staying  at  the 
Imperial  Hotel,  and  they  led  Gardner  into  a  discourse 
and  glimpses  of  native  life.  He  began  with  the  bed, 
which  is  the  starting  point  of  Japanese  as  well  as  for- 
eign life,  and  the  finishing  point  too. 

"  In  Japan,"  he  said,  "  you  don't  go  to  bed ;  the  bed 
comes  to  you.  It  is  much  easier  that  way,  and  in  Japan 
the  easiest  way  is  the  only  way.  That  is  why  the  country 
is  so  popular  with  globe-trotters.  Nor  does  it  make 
much  difference  what  part  of  your  house  you  may  be  in, 
or  of  a  friend's  house,  for  that  matter,  or  a  tea-house 
or  an  hotel ;  if  you  are  drowsy  the  bed  will  come  in  patty- 
pat,  and  will  spread  out  before  you  at  a  moment's  notice. 

"  If  you  are  visiting,  your  host  will  detect  your  in- 
clinations and  beg  you  to  honor  his  house  by  taking  a 
nap  therein.  Clapping  his  hands,  he  calls  out :  '  Futon 

[61] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

motte  koi ! '  ('  Quilts  bring  here ! ')  In  a  moment  his  wife 
is  prostrate  just  outside  the  room,  hearkening  to  the 
august  command.  In  two  minutes  she  will  be  toddling 
in  with  a  bundle  in  her  arms  much  larger  than  herself— 
a  huge,  thickly  wadded  quilt,  the  '  futon,'  which  she  rolls 
out  over  the  '  tatami,'  the  straw  mattresses  covered  with 
finely  woven  bamboos  that  are  upon  all  floors  in  Japanese 
rooms  (excepting  only  the  '  daidoku,'  or  kitchen). 
That  is  the  bed,  and  if  you  will  condescend  augustly  to 
arrange  your  honorable  body  on  anything  so  unworthy, 
Okamisan  (the  sweet  little  wife)  will  be  bewildered  with 
the  honor. 

"  She  tells  you  so  in  a  sweet  voice  as  she  kneels  and 
presses  her  face  down  against  the  backs  of  her  tiny 
hands  on  the  tatami  before  you.  You  protest  that  the 
honor  is  with  you ;  that  it  is  indescribably  rude  of  you  to 
venture  to  think  of  polluting  so  magnificent  a  futon. 
Then,  with  a  low  bow,  you  stretch  yourself  out  upon  it. 
Okamisan  covers  you  with  another  futon,  and  doubling 
up  again,  lisps:  '  Oyasumi  nasi '  ('  Condescend  to  enjoy 
honorable  tranquillity  ').  Mine  host  says  the  weather 
impresses  him  as  being  such  as  to  encourage  nap-taking 
also,  and  soon  he  is  on  another  futon  lying  peacefully 
beside  you,  to  be  called  when  the  bath  is  ready,  for  if  it 
is  afternoon  all  Japan  takes  a  nap  and  afterwards  a  dip 
in  the  '  furo,'  or  wooden  bath-tub,  and  has  a  rub  down 
by  a  maid. 

"  Supposing  you  to  be  a  foreigner  who  has  just  ar- 
rived, and  therefore  a  '  griffin,'  in  Yokohama  slang, 
your  first  night  in  Japan  is  likely  to  be  a  new  experi- 


THE    OBEDIENT    BED 

cnce,  especially  if  you  are  unfamiliar  with  the  Far  East. 
You  may  very  well  begin  right  here  in  Tokio,  the 
capital  of  the  Empire. 

"  You  leave  your  shoes  outside  the  door  on  entering, 
for  the  delicate  texture  of  the  bamboo  matting,  which 
is  the  upper  surface  of  the  tatami,  would  be  torn  by 
boot  heels.  If  your  feet  are  chilled,  you  may  wear  heel- 
less  slippers,  but  the  native  way  is  the  best;  that  is,  to 
go  barefoot — a  good  preventive  against  colds  and  rheu- 
matism. If  you  like,  you  may  wear  'tabi.'  Tabi  are 
the  native  socks.  They  come  just  to  the  ankle,  around 
which  they  fasten  with  hooks,  and  are  like  mittens  in 
shape,  having  separate  pockets  for  the  great  toes,  just 
as  mittens  have  for  the  thumbs.  Tabi  are  convenient, 
because  when  wearing  them  your  feet  fit  into  the  '  zori ' 
(sandals)  and  '  geta '  (wooden  clogs),  which  the  Jap- 
anese wear  out  of  doors  instead  of  shoes,  and  you  may 
amble  round  as  you  please  without  the  bother  of  bend- 
ing over  to  lace  or  to  button  or  to  pull  on  a  pair  of 
boots.  The  slit  in  the  tabi  between  the  pocket  for  the 
great  toe  and  the  pocket  for  the  other  toes  is  to  admit 
the  thong  by  which  the  geta  and  zori  are  held  to  the 
foot. 

"  When  your  shoes  are  on  one  of  the  shelves  in  the 
stand,  where  you  would  look  for  a  hat-rack  at  home,  a 
maid  will  take  you  directly  to  your  room  along  with  your 
luggage,  for  there  is  no  office  in  which  to  stop  to  register. 
There  you  will  find  little  in  the  way  of  ornament,  and  no 
furniture  at  all.  If  you  like  you  may  have  some  brought 
in.  There  may  be  a  '  scroll '  hanging  in  the  alcove,  and 

[63] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

an  inscription  on  a  tablet,  or  a  motto  over  one  of  the 
cross-beams  that  hold  the  upper  groove  for  the  sliding 
paper  doors.  The  tablet  is  by  a  famous  chirographer, 
and  bears  his  seal.  Likely  enough  the  sentence  is  a 
maxim  of  Confucius. 

"  As  there  are  no  chairs,  you  will  be  glad  that  the 
Japanese  floors  are  not  like  ours,  and  that  the  tatami 
are  really  soft.  You  will  have  *  zabuton,'  or  small 
square  futon-like  chair-cushions  to  sit  on,  and  you  will 
wish  you  had  the  chair,  too.  You  will  soon  wonder  what 
to  do  with  your  legs  and  feet,  which  you  will  discover  can 
be  very  troublesome  appendages.  If  only  you  could 
hang  them  over  somewhere,  or  even  down  a  hole.  But 
there  is  no  suitable  hole.  If  you  wish  a  table  to  use  in 
writing  down  your  *  first  impressions,'  after  the  manner 
of  most  griffins,  the  maid  will  bring  you  one  a  foot  high, 
which  you  may  grow  used  to  if  you  persevere ;  but  then 
you  will  not  be  a  griffin — you  will  have  been  graduated. 

"  If  it  is  toward  the  end  of  an  afternoon,  you  should 
have  a  bath.  You  will  find  it  amusing,  refreshing,  and 
possibly  embarrassing.  When  the  maid  has  scrubbed 
your  back,  it  will  be  time  for  *  ban  meshi,'  or  evening 
meal.  You  will  find  the  chopsticks  unexpectedly  easy 
to  manage.  Soon  after  this,  as  you  are  tired,  you  are 
ready  for  the  bed  to  come  to  you. 

"As  you  are  not  used  to  sleeping  on  the  floor  yet, 
even  a  soft  one,  you  had  better  order  '  futon  ni  mai,' 
or,  if  you  are  tender,  '  sam  mai.'  ('  Ni '  means  '  two,' 
and  '  san  '  or  '  sam  '  means  '  three.'  '  Mai '  is  an  auxil- 
iary numeral  used  when  counting  flat  things.)  You 

[64] 


THE    OBEDIENT    BED 

clap  your  hands  instead  of  pressing  the  button  of  an 
electric  bell,  and  from  far  back  in  the  interior  of  the 
house  comes  a  drawn  out  '  Hai-i-i-i,  tadaima.'  '  Hai ' 
is  only  a  signal  cry,  meaning  that  the  maid  hears  you. 
It  does  not  mean  '  yes.'  '  Tadaima,'  the  dictionaries 
say,  means  '  now,'  '  just  now,'  '  at  present,'  or  '  pres- 
ently.' In  some  tea-houses  you  will  find  it  is  the  equiva- 
lent of  the  Spanish  word  '  maiiana.'  Tokio  maids  are 
quick,  however,  and  in  a  moment  the  karakimi  slide  to 
one  side,  and  a  little  body  is  kneeling  just  beyond  await- 
ing orders. 

"  You  say  you  are  sleepy  and  would  like  a  nap,  and 
you  ask  for  an  extra  futon.  *  Hai  kashikomari  mashita  ' 
('I  listen  with  respectful  assent'),  replies  the  bright- 
eyed  maiden  as  she  bends  low.  Then  with  an  *  august 
pardon  deign  '  she  pushes  the  karakimi  wide  open,  and 
calls  out,  *  Elder  sister,  come  here  a  moment.  The 
Learned  One  would  sleep ! ' 

"  Elder  sister,  who,  by  the  way,  is  as  likely  to  be  the 
younger  of  the  two,  comes  along  the  veranda  from  the 
kitchen,  her  bare  feet  sounding  patty-pat  on  the  pol- 
ished wood.  She  goes  to  the  wall  and  slides  open  the 
door  of  the  *  fukuro  dana,'  or  cupboard,  which  you 
thought  was  the  entrance  to  another  room.  There  are 
the  futon  folded  up  on  a  horizontal  shelf,  which  divides 
the  cupboard  so  that  it  looks  like  the  two  berths  of  a 
stateroom  on  board  ship. 

"  *  You  want  two  pieces,  don't  you,  master?  '  she  says. 
And  then  with  the  sweetest  little  smile,  and  with  her  head 
a  bit  to  one  side  like  a  bird,  she  asks :  *  Makura  futatsu, 

[65] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

desuka  ?  '  *  Makura '  is  pillow,  and  she  asks  if  you  wish 
two. 

"  The  futon  are  spread  out  one  upon  the  other,  and  a 
sheet  perhaps  is  laid  on  top.  Sheets,  however,  are  new 
to  Japan.  Then  comes  the  big  *  yagu,'  or  top  futon, 
which  is  longer  than  the  others,  and  has  sleeves  like  a 
huge  kimono.  This  is  bunched  up  at  the  foot  of  the 
bed,  ready  to  be  pulled  over  you  when  you  have  lain 
down. 

"  The  small  object  at  the  head  of  your  bed,  which 
looks  like  a  cigar  box  on  edge  surmounted  by  a  roll  of 
paper,  is  the  '  makura.'  No  one  need  envy  your  first 
night's  experience  with  it.  You  will  discover  that  your 
head  is  as  heavy  as  though  it  were  solid  lead,  and,  there- 
fore— which  is  all  the  comfort  you'll  have  out  of  the 
sensation — that  it  cannot  possibly  be  empty.  You  will 
likely  dream  of  being  beheaded  or  unheaded,  and  of 
falling  over  the  brinks  of  precipice  after  preci- 
pice. 

"  In  the  morning  your  head  will  be  stationary,  for  the 
hinges  of  your  neck  will  be  too  rusty  to  turn  even  a  little 
bit.  It  will  take  time  to  master  the  makura,  but  you 
will  like  it  when  you  are  used  to  it.  If  you  will  ex- 
amine closely  you  will  see  that  it  is  not  a  cigar  box,  but 
a  truncated  pyramid,  four  or  five  inches  high,  hollow, 
with  a  rectangular  base  and  a  groove  on  top,  in  which 
lies  a  slender  cushion  stuffed  with  bran.  Upon  this 
cushion  elder  sister  binds  a  few  layers  of  paper,  which 
are  changed  every  morning. 

"  There  is  a  drawer  at  one  end  of  the  makura,  in  which 

[66] 


THE    OBEDIENT    BED 

you  will  find  tobacco,  extremely  fine  cut  and  of  attenu- 
ated flavor.  You  may  take  *  ippuku '  (one  puff),  as 
the  Japanese  say,  with  small  danger  of  nervous  prostra- 
tion. There  may  be  one  or  two  '  kiseru,'  or  pipes,  in  the 
drawer.  If  not,  surely  there  are  several  on  the  tray 
beside  the  '  tabako  ban,'  the  square  little  rosewood  box 
with  the  earthenware  '  hibachi,'  or  brazier,  in  it,  and  the 
4  haifuki,'  as  the  bamboo  tube  is  called,  which  is  a  com- 
bination of  ash-receiver  and  cuspidor.  Bits  of  burning 
charcoal  are  in  the  hibachi  for  lighting  your  pipe.  The 
haifuki  is  for  ashes,  burnt  matches,  and  the  other  uses  of 
a  cuspidor. 

"  If  it  is  not  too  late  in  the  season,  you  will  need  a 

*  kaya,'  or  mosquito  net.     Ne  san  will  have  it  unfolded 
and  hung  up  by  cords  at  its  four  corners  in  almost  no 
time.     It  is  always  green,  and  usually  has  red  bindings. 
When  you  are  inside  you  will  be  well  shut  off  from  the 
evening  breezes  as  well  as  from  the  mosquitoes,  and  will 
not  feel  the  need  of  the  '  yagu '  or  upper  futon. 

"  You  have  watched  these  proceedings  with  amuse- 
ment, and  now  that  everything  seems  ready  you  wonder 
why  the  '  elder  sisters  '  do  not  patter  back  to  the  kitchen. 
But  all  is  not  ready.  They  must  take  away  the  '  rosoku,' 
paper-wicked  candles,  or  the  '  rampu  ' — as  the  Japanese 
pronounce  lamp — and  put  the  night  lantern,  the  '  an- 
don,'  in  its  place.  This  is  a  large  square  white  paper 
affair,  standing  on  a  frame  a  couple  of  feet  above  the 

*  tatami,'  and  lighted  by  a  taper  that  juts  out  over  the 
edge  of  a  small  saucer  of  oil  of  sesame  within. 

"  While  you  are  waiting  and  wondering,  they  are 
[67] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

doing  the  same  thing.  They  will  bring  the  night  lamp 
as  soon  as  you  are  safely  under  the  kaya. 

** '  Why  doesn't  honorable  master  undress  ?  '  they  are 
thinking,  and  you,  '  Why  the  deucer  don't  those  maids 
go? '  A  Japanese  friend  explains  to  you,  perhaps,  and 
you  get  him  between  you  and  them,  and,  partially  dis- 
robing, slip  under  the  kaya.  Then  he  explains  your 
trepidation  to  the  elder  sisters,  and  all  three  have  a  great 
laugh  at  your  shyness. 

"  Should  you  wish  to  go  out  to  look  at  the  moon  or  to 
study  the  weather  probabilities  for  the  morrow,  or  the 
4  asago,'  which  is  Japanese  for  morning  glory,  before 
retiring,  elder  sister  accompanies  you  and  stands  pa- 
tiently by,  humming  an  old  love  tune.  She  has  a  dip- 
per at  the  '  chosubachi '  (washing  basin),  and  will  pour 
water  for  you  to  wash  your  hands,  and  will  offer  you  a 
brand  new  *  tenui '  (towel)  after  your  ablutions,  on 
which  to  dry  yourself.  Ne  san  is  not  an  imaginative 
person.  She  guides  you  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  takes 
good  care  of  you.  She  sees  you  safely  in  bed,  and 
doubling  up  into  a  little  bunch,  she  says  most  humbly: 
*  Oyasumi  nasai.'  Then  sh-sh-sh-click,  the  karakimi  are 
pushed  together,  and  you  are  in  bed  in  Japan.  You'll 
rather  like  it  after  a  month's  experience. 

"  You  will  not  find  bedrooms  in  Japanese  houses.  But 
wherever  you  go  you  will  find  futon  are  plentiful,  and 
wherever  there  is  space  for  one,  there  you  may  have  a 
bed.  The  servants — men,  women,  boys,  and  girls — 
sleep  on  the  kitchen  floor,  or,  more  often,  on  the  floor 
of  the  room  opening  into  the  kitchen,  in  a  long  row,  de- 

[68] 


THE    OBEDIENT    BED 

pending  on  the  size  of  the  room  and  the  number  of 
servants. 

"  In  a  first-class  tea-house  or  hotel,  if  you  look  in 
early  of  a  morning,  you  will  find  several  rows  of  futon 
reaching  quite  across  the  main  room,  each  with  a  head 
hanging  out  comfortably  over  the  top  of  one  of  those 
hollow  wooden  pillows.  To  the  Japanese  they  are  rather 
neck-rests  than  head-rests,  but  to  the  foreign  mind  the 
word  rest  is  not  applicable  to  makura.  Except  in  the 
case  of  young  children,  no  two  people  are  on  the  same 
futon. 

"  Using  futon  and  the  floor  instead  of  bedsteads  is  a 
great  saving  of  house  space,  and  is  convenient  in  many 
other  ways.  The  futon  are  easily  aired,  and  may  be  car- 
ried about  readily  when  moving.  In  case  of  fire  they  are 
quickly  packed  up  and  put  out  of  danger.  They  are 
cheap,  too,  except  those  used  by  the  rich,  which  are 
filled  with  pure  silk  wadding  and  covered  with  heavy 
silk.  Even  then  they  cost  less  than  hair  mattresses  at 
home. 

"  As  much  of  the  exterior  as  well  as  of  the  interior 
walls  of  Japanese  houses  is  sliding  doors,  which  grow 
loose  and  wabbly  with  the  changing  of  the  seasons,  from 
wet  to  dry  and  then  to  wet  again;  and  with  the  shak- 
ing of  the  five  hundred  earthquakes  that  occur  each  year, 
there  is  no  lack  of  chinks  and  crevices  which,  however 
admirable  for  ventilation,  are  rather  too  cooling  in  win- 
ter, it  behooves  you  to  have  heat  if  you  would  be  com- 
fortable. The  Japanese  have  neither  open  fireplaces  nor 
stoves.  They  make  no  attempt  to  heat  their  houses,  but 

[69] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

they  try  to  keep  their  toes  and  fingers  warm  by  means  of 
a  '  kotatsu ' — that  is  a  square  firebox,  sunk  in  the  floor 
with  a  wooden  frame  above  it.  This  supports  the  futon 
that  are  laid  over  it  and  prevents  their  catching  fire. 
There  is  a  grating,  too,  just  over  the  fire,  something 
like  a  grill  iron. 

"  In  winter  the  beds  are  arranged  round  the  kotatsu, 
and  consequently  for  the  first  half  of  the  night  your 
feet  are  in  an  oven,  but  as  morning  approaches,  and  the 
charcoal  fire  dwindles,  the  oven  changes  and  is  more  like 
an  ice-box. 

"  When  you  give  a  party  to  your  friends,  and,  the 
wee  sma'  hours  approaching,  you  would  fain  retire,  do 
not  hesitate  to  do  so,  but  do  not  hint  anything  thereof 
to  your  guests.  That  would  be  a  sad  breach  of  etiquette. 
They  own  the  house  while  they  are  there  and  all  that  is 
therein.  Your  course  is  quietly  to  disappear  to  the  re- 
motest apartment  you  have  and  call  the  bed  to  come  to 
you.  It  is  good  form  to  do  this,  for  it  allows  the  merri- 
ment to  continue  unrestrained.  Should  anyone  ask  for 
you,  the  maids  will  say  that  you  are  just  outside,  and  will 
be  in  '  tadaima ' — a  safe  term  to  use.  In  the  morning, 
if  your  sake  was  good,  you  will  find  your  friends  sleep- 
ing sweetly  on  your  spare  futon,  a  bed  having  gone  to 
each  of  them  by  the  courtesy  of  elder  sister." 


[70] 


CHAPTER    NINE 
ONE  WHO  WON 

WHILE  in  Tokio  this  trip,  we  were  onlookers 
at  a  poker  game  once,  as  guests  of  a  man  of 
rank.  Though  we  did  not  take  a  hand,  we 
had  a  worthy  night  of  it.  The  game  was  of  a  magni- 
tude we  had  never  seen  before — and  in  such  simple  yet 
exquisite  surroundings :  a  glorious  place  for  the  purpose, 
or  for  any  other  purpose!  Our  friends  were  of  some 
distinction,  too,  and  most  interesting  in  their  native 
manner.  The  first  words  we  heard  were: 

"  '  Hitotsu,  futatsu,  mitsu,  yotsu,  itsutsu — aka  ba- 
kari '  ('  One,  two,  three,  four,  five — red  only.')  Prince 
Sakusama  was  counting  at  the  end  of  the  first  jack-pet, 
as  he  laid  a  straight  flush,  beginning  with  the  ace  of 
hearts,  on  the  low  ebony  table  in  one  of  the  famous  tea- 
houses on  Sumida  Gawa. 

"  I  win  ?  "  he  asked,  as  he  paused  a  moment  and 
looked  round  at  his  companions.  Then,  with  a  gentle 
inclination  to  those  about  the  table,  "  The  chips 
and  Peach  Blossom,  too.  Shall  I  put  her  in  the 
kitty?" 

"  If  your  Highness  did  so,"  said  a  young  Baron  who 
had  just  returned  with  an  Embassy  from  London,  "  all 
of  us  would  play  to  lose,  for,  as  your  Highness  has 
deigned  to  declare,  the  rules  of  the  game  give  the  kitty 

[71] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

to  the  player  who  is  hit  the  hardest.  To  play  poker  to 
lose  would  be  to  debauch  its  pristine  purity." 

"  We  must  never  do  that,  Baron,  surely.  Let  us  play 
a  round  of  jacks,"  replied  the  Prince. 

He  clapped  his  hands,  and  from  the  far  interior  of  the 
tea-house,  bej^ond  many  partitions  of  paper  sliding 
doors,  an  answering,  "  Hai  tadaima,"  long  drawn,  soft, 
and  musical,  floated  in,  telling  the  prince  that  his  sum- 
mons had  been  heard.  A  moment  later  and  the  paper 
doors  at  the  end  of  the  room  slid  noiselessly  in  their 
grooves  and  disclosed  a  bundle  of  daintiness  on  the 
tatami  just  outside. 

It  was  Peach  Blossom,  kneeling  low,  with  her  face  al- 
most touching  the  soft  bamboo  matting,  and  her  tiny 
hands  pressed  palm  down  together  just  before  her. 

She  besought  His  Highness  to  deign  to  pardon  her 
audacious  effrontery  in  responding  to  the  august  sum- 
mons, and  begged  that  if  he  would  condescend  to  com- 
mand so  unworthy  a  piece  of  stupid  mud  as  she,  he 
would  deign  to  consider  her  ready  to  receive  the  au- 
gustly  honorable  orders. 

"  Sake,"  said  the  Prince,  and  as  Peach  Blossom  closed 
the  sliding  door  and  pattered  away  for  the  hot  rice- 
beer,  His  Highness  tore  the  cover  from  a  fresh  pack 
of  cards  and  began  to  shuffle  them.  The  Baron  cut  and 
the  game  proceeded. 

Five  better  poker  faces  were  never  gathered  about  a 
table.  There  was  not  a  sign  of  nerves  in  any  one  of 
them.  Each  player  skinned  his  hand  and  decided 
whether  to  draw  or  to  pass  or  to  stand  pat,  but  never  a 

[72] 


ONE    WHO    WON 

sign  of  his  thoughts  was  given  in  his  countenance.  One 
and  all  had  the  expression  of  a  door-knob.  Good  hands 
and  bad  hands  come  to  a  door-knob,  but  one  can  tell 
nothing  of  them  by  looking  at  it. 

These  five  men  in  the  tea-house  on  the  bank  of  the 
Sumida  Gawa,  which  flows  through  the  heart  of  Tokio, 
bore  some  of  the  best-known  names  in  the  Japanese  Em- 
pire. Three  of  them  had  been  "  Daimiyo  "  and  had 
owned  provinces  as  absolutely  as  anything  may  be 
owned  in  this  world.  Their  revenues  had  been  counted 
by  the  100,000  "  koku."  1  They  had  lived  in  royal 
state,  each  with  his  castles  and  his  army  and  board  of 
councilors. 

But  Commodore  Perry  had  changed  all  that,  and  now 
these  men  were  living  in  the  capital  with  one-tenth  of 
their  former  incomes,  but  with  no  one  to  support  or 
worry  about,  outside  their  personal  households. 

Of  the  other  two,  his  Highness,  Prince  Sakusama, 
was  one  of  the  Shogun's  family,  which  had  ruled  the 
empire  until  the  restoration  in  1868,  and  the  other  was 
of  the  samurai  class.  His  fathers  had  been  fighting 
men  for  full  two  thousand  years,  as  his  family  records 
showed.  He  had  studied  abroad,  was  a  graduate  of 
Harvard,  an  M.  A.  of  Oxford,  and  a  Ph.  D.  of  Heidel- 
berg. It  was  said  that  he  had  carved  his  name  on  the 
face  of  a  German  student  who  had  been  so  unlucky  as 
to  challenge  him.  He  was  a  vice-minister  now,  and  had 
married  the  daughter  of  a  merchant  with  much  money. 
(Before  1871  he  would  have  been  sentenced  to  "  hara- 
1 A  koku  is  about  five  bushels  (of  rice). 

[73] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

kiri "  for  mesalliance. )  All  five  had  learned  to  play 
abroad.  They  had  been  together  in  a  Japanese  club  in 
London,  the  presiding  genius  of  which  was  their  Consul- 
General,  who  knew  the  great  American  game  as  well  as 
did  ever  a  Kentucky  colonel. 

Now  that  they  were  at  home  again,  they  were  only  too 
willing  to  meet  wherever  a  chance  afforded,  and  the  tea- 
house of  the  Rising  Moon  knew  them  well.  Its  mistress 
was  glad  to  see  them,  for  the  players  and  their  friends 
were  a  hungry  and  thirsty  lot,  and  did  not  spare  the 
kitty,  out  of  which  the  chief  loser  had  to  pay  all  ex- 
penses. 

The  round  of  jacks  was  under  way  when  Momo-mo- 
Hana  came  in  with  the  sake.  When  sake  is  ordered  in 
a  tea-house  food  is  served  with  it,  for  the  host  knows 
well  the  evil  effects  of  drinking  on  an  empty  stomach, 
and  besides  there  is  profit  in  comestibles.  So  Peach 
Blossom  was  followed  by  a  procession  of  similar  blossoms, 
each  with  a  dainty  morsel  on  china  dishes  and  lacquered 
trays.  All  these  bearers  of  nectar  and  ambrosia  were 
geisha,  and  indentured  to  masters  of  various  geisha 
houses.  Rumor  had  it  that  for  certain  sums  of  money, 
doubtless  much  exaggerated,  the  indenture  papers  of 
the  more  bewitching  of  these  geisha  had  changed  hands, 
so  that  the  sweet  singers  were  come  under  the  guardian- 
ship of  men  of  noble  birth,  who  in  the  olden  days  could 
have  cut  in  two  the  master  of  a  geisha  house  and  would 
have  been  accountable  to  no  one.  Food  and  drink  dis- 
appeared rapidly,  and  then  the  game  went  on,  while 
music  and  singing  kept  accompaniment.  Finally  came 


ONE    WHO    WON 

the  last  jack-pot  of  the  last  round.  It  bore  out  the 
rumor  as  to  the  transference  of  indenture  papers,  for 
when  the  last  call  was  made  and  his  Highness  had  reck- 
oned up  the  contents,  he  found  Cherry  Bud,  Chrysan- 
themum, and  Plum  Blossom  were  added  to  his  list,  besides 
Little  Posy  and  One  Thousand  Joys.  He  had  won  the 
whole  procession.  Each  player  laughed  as  though  he 
might  have  been  himself  the  principal  winner,  exchanged 
sake  cups  with  all  the  others,  and  planned  to  meet  again. 

Looking  out  over  the  slow  Sumida,  and  watching  the 
house-boats  with  their  gay  paper  lanterns  as  the  boat- 
man poled  them  along  the  shores  in  the  light  of  the  ris- 
ing moon,  Sakusama  dipped  his  sake  cup  in  the  basin, 
and  handing  it  to  him  who  had  lost  just  too  little  to  be 
entitled  to  the  kitty,  said: 

"  Next  time  your  honorable  luck  good  probably  will 
be.  Graciously  condescend  a  cupful  of  sake  to  imbibe." 


[75] 


CHAPTER   TEN 

THINKING  IN  JAPANESE 

WHAT  wonders  a  little  word  will  work !    It  was 
the  mellifluous  "  tadaima,"  for  instance,  our 
old  friend  of  the  inns  and  the  tea-houses,  that 
set  Gardner  and  me  at  the  language.    It  had  followed  us 
on  our  trip  to  Tokio,  and  at  the  same  time  that  it  "  set  " 
us  it  had  been  floating  in  from  Okashi's  yashiki  for 
quite  two  hours. 

Something  had  happened  to  the  "  fire-box  "  that  our 
cook  had  contrived  for  the  viands  we  needed  on  our 
feast  days,  so  we  were  waiting  for  our  dinner.  We  were 
hungry,  we  were  in  a  hurry,  and  the  hour  was  late,  yet 
no  matter  how  much  we  clapped  our  hands  all  we  elic- 
ited was  "  tadaima  " — tadaima  instead  of  sustenance ! 
Every  four  minutes  of  the  two  hours  either  Gardner  or 
I  had  called  until  the  fingers  of  our  right  hands  had 
raised  welts  on  our  left  hands'  palms,  and  further 
"  P°PPJn£>  "  was  painful. 

We  were  "  na  sae  ticklit,"  as  a  Drumtochty  man  might 
have  said,  over  the  monotony  of  the  responses  to  our 
summons,  but  it  was  Sunday  and  we  did  not  speak  out 
what  we  thought.  I  had  found  out  something  about 
"  tadaima  "  the  first  night  I  was  in  Tokio,  and  I  had 
described  my  impressions  to  Gardner.  We  both  knew 
that  in  the  dictionaries  it  was  opposite  the  word  "  im» 

[73] 


THINKING   IN    JAPANESE 

mediately."  Whoever  juxtaposed  it  there  may  have 
fancied  for  the  moment  that  he  was  at  work  on  a  list  of 
antonyms.  One  could  not  well  imagine  a  word  more  op- 
posite to  "  immediately  "  than  "  tadaima."  Its  location 
in  the  dictionary  was  a  good  one  from  the  antonymic 
point  of  view. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  have  to  do,  Partner,"  said  my 
good  friend,  as  he  clapped  his  hands  for  the  fifteenth 
time,  rather  mildly,  and  listened  to  the  thirtieth 
"  tadaima." 

"  Is  it  far  ?  "  I  asked.  I  thought  he  was  about  to  sug- 
gest a  tea-house. 

"  No,  I  don't  mean  to  go  anywhere,"  he  replied.  "  I 
was  about  to  observe  that  we  must  study  the  language. 
This  eternal  tadaima  disturbs  the  equanimity  I  would 
maintain.  My  soul  protests.  So  does  my  appetite  de- 
partment. If  we  had  learned  Japanese  we  should  not 
be  sitting  here  like  a  couple  of  blind  claqueurs,  we 
should  have  proceeded  to  the  kitchen  at  the  first  indica- 
tion of  delay  and  have  remonstrated  so  accurately,  so 
precisely,  and  so  emphatically,  that  by  this  time  we 
should  have  been  within  sound  of  the  surf  at  Sakaiko." 
Sakaiko  is  a  grand  place  for  surf  some  days,  and  Gard- 
ner and  I  went  there  often,  but  to-day  we  should  be  late. 

Yes,  Gardner  was  right.  If  we  had  taken  up  the 
language  we  should  have  been  more  comfortable  inter- 
nally. Tadaima  would  be  a  lesson  to  us. 

"  True,"  I  replied.  "  We  must  learn,  the  lingo  " ;  and 
straightway  we  began.  There  was  no  "  tadaima " 
about  Gardner  once  his  mind  had  determined  itself. 

[77] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Kitsune  San  had  various  books  which  he  said  kind  lady 
missionaries  had  loaned  to  him  once  at  a  Christian  school 
in  Kanazawa.  While  Gardner  went  over  for  them  I 
made  some  tea.  Then  we  began.  The  book  we  first 
read  was  by  an  Englishman  who  held  a  unique  position, 
considering  his  nationality.  He  was  Professor  of  Jap- 
anese in  the  Imperial  University  of  Japan,  in  Tokio. 

We  also  had  articles  by  Captain  Brinkley,  R.  A., 
editor  of  the  Japan  Mall,  whose  particular  information 
about  Japan,  and  general  information  about  everything, 
filled  us  with  enthusiastic  awe;  by  Percival  Lowell,  who 
would  have  us  believe  the  Japanese  have  no  souls;  by 
Lafcadio  Hearn,  who  knows  that  Japanese  souls  are  as 
plentiful  as  any  people's,  though  not  always  encum- 
bered with  material  bodies,  and  has  written  about  them 
with  such  rare  illumination  that  others  may  see  as  he 
does.  The  more  illusive  the  object  towards  which  Mr. 
Hearn's  mind  turns  attention,  the  more  brilliantly  he 
seizes  it  and  presents  it  to  his  readers.  His  books,  how- 
ever, were  not  among  those  the  missionaries  loaned  to 
Kitsune.  Mr.  Hearn  does  not  approve  the  missionary, 
and  says  so  frankly.* 

We  had,  besides,  an  Etymology  by  Imbrie,  which 
gave  us  opportunity  for  learning  by  practical  examples 

*  We  had  our  widely  known  friends,  Messrs.  Kelly  and  Walsh, 
of  Yokohama,  to  thank  for  Hearn.  Hearn,  by  the  way,  is  no  longer 
Hearn.  He  has  become  a  Japanese  citizen  by  the  only  possible  pro- 
cess, that  of  marrying  a  Japanese  and  taking  his  wife's  name.  He  is 
now  KoidzumiYakumo,  and  appeared  thus  on  the  list  of  professors 
of  the  Imperial  University  in  Kaga  Yashiki,  Hongo,  Tokio,  where 

[78] 


THINKING    IN    JAPANESE 

the  uses  of  particular  words;  and  dear  old  Hepburn's 
Dictionary,  in  sombre  black,  the  result  of  many  years' 
unselfish  labor  by  a  Christian  missionary  who  was  also 
a  scholar  and  a  physician.  But  the  books  that  helped 
us  most  were  by  the  Englishman  at  the  University,  Basil 
Hall  Chamberlain.  His  "  Colloquial  Japanese," 
"  Things  Japanese,"  and  "  Handbook  of  Japan  "  (in 
which  Mr.  Mason  collaborated)  were  a  joy — and  are  so 
even  to  this  day.  May  his  shadow  never  grow  less ! 

We  should  not  forget  that  we  also  had  the  Kobe 
Chronicle  and  the  Japan  Mail,  two  papers  each  of  which 
sometimes  said  things  of  the  other,  but  which  every  visi- 
tor to  the  Mikado's  realm  should  read. 

We  found  out  a  lot  of  things  about  Japanese  that 
very  afternoon,  things  that  everyone  else  knew  prob- 
ably, but  which  we  had  not  happened  to  think  about — 
to  wit,  Japanese  is  not  even  second  cousin  to  Chinese, 
though  in  the  matter  of  loans  Chinese  had  been  a  good 
uncle.  Japanese  is  an  only  child,  and  its  parentage, 
though  certainly  respectable,  is  doubtful.  It  has  a 
cousin  in  the  Luchu  Islands,  and  remote  kindred  possibly 
in  Corea,  where  there  is  some  anatomical  resemblance. 
Gardner's  sympathetic  heart  was  touched  by  this  ap- 
parent isolation,  and  he  declared  he  would  look  into  the 
matter  to  see  if  he  could  not  find  relatives  among  the 
Manchus  or  the  Mongols.  He  is  looking  now. 
he  lectured  on  literature.  He  saw  little  of  foreigners,  but  I  am 
grateful  to  recall  one  delightful  evening  spent  in  his  company  not 
long  after  his  arrival  in  Dai  Nihon.  He  is  now  once  more  in  the 
United  States. 

[79] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

We  had  thought  to  learn  to  write  Japanese,  but,  after 
a  cursory  survey  of  the  ground  we  must  needs  go  over, 
we  decided  to  devote  ourselves  at  first  to  speaking.  The 
written  language  would  take  time — ten  years,  perhaps, 
if  we  kept  steadily  at  it  twenty-four  hours  a  day  as  I 
reckoned  it,  though  Gardner  was  inclined  to  say  twenty- 
six  hours,  and  we  felt  it  would  be  hardly  wise  to  write 
much  at  first.  We  could  hot  have  begun  at  the  begin- 
ning anyway — not  the  kind  of  beginning  that  other 
languages  begin  at,  for  there  is  no  alphabet  in  Japanese. 
We  should  have  had  to  learn  sets  of  syllables  instead  of 
letters.  There  are  two  of  these,  and  six  ways  of  writing 
the  one  more  generally  in  use.  Then  there  would  be 
four  thousand  ideographs  to  commit  to  memory  (a  num- 
ber said  to  be  sufficient  for  reading  the  daily  paper  com- 
fortably), which  the  Japanese  write  in  two  different 
styles,  cursive  and  standard,  as  the  spirit  moves  them, 
and  in  various  other  ways  if  they  happen  to  be  men  of 
learning.  These  ideographs,  Professor  Chamberlain  as- 
sured us,  had  three  or  four  different  readings,  according 
to  context.  Then  in  the  next  paragraph,  to  give  zest  to 
his  description,  he  declared  that  a  printed  page  was 
likely  enough  to  have  all  the  different  forms  of  the 
characters  scattered  over  it  pell-mell.  Perhaps  Gardner 
was  correct  in  saying  "  twenty-six." 

With  the  spoken  language  there  was  hope.  In  the 
first  place  it  was  agglutinative.  A  language  that  glues 
on  its  case  endings,  and  builds  up  its  grammatical  forms 
of  speech  with  little  pellets  of  cement,  cannot  but  be 
hedonic.  Ever  since  we  were  children  we  had  looked 

[80] 


THINKING    IN    JAPANESE 

forward  to  having  an  agglutinative  language  right 
down  where  we  could  study  it  without  getting  hurt. 
Now  we  had  one.  Then,  too,  to  go  back  to  my  early 
days,  I  recalled  the  cloud  grammar  had  cast  over  my 
young  life — how  my  soul  had  protested  against  it,  and 
how  it  had  come  round  at  ten  o'clock  each  school  day  as 
though  my  soul  had  never  spoken,  or  as  though  I  had 
no  soul  ( I  knew  grammar  had  none ) .  It  was  with  grati- 
tude to  Professor  Chamberlain,  therefore,  that  I  read 
this  paragraph  of  his: 

"  A  word  as  to  the  parts  of  speech  in  Japanese. 
Strictly  speaking,  there  are  but  two,  the  verb  and  the 
noun.  ["  The  only  parts  I  ever  knew ! "  I  purred.] 
The  particles  or  '  post  positions '  and  suffixes,  which 
take  the  place  of  our  prepositions,  conjunctions,  and 
conjunctional  terminations,  were  themselves  originally 
fragments  of  nouns  and  verbs.  The  pronoun  and  nu- 
meral are  simply  nouns.  The  true  adjective  (including 
the  adverb)  is  a  sort  of  neuter  verb.  But  many  words 
answering  to  our  adjectives  and  adverbs  are  nouns  in 
Japanese.  There  is  no  article.  Altogether  our  gram- 
matical categories  do  not  fit  the  Japanese  language 
well." 

Another  interesting  feature  was  the  honorific.  That 
was  a  delight  second  only  to  the  absence  of  parts  of 
speech.  In  Japanese  it  seems  all  one's  own  things  are 
mean  and  vile,  while  the  other  fellow's  are  honorable, 
august,  divine.  Gardner  and  I  practiced  this,  and  soon 
each  had  the  other  on  a  throne  while  he  himself  groveled 
before  him  most  abjectly.  We  learned  to  apologize  for 

[81] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

living,  and  to  say,  "  Yesterday  I  had  the  honor  of  being 
rude  to  you,"  or,  "  To-morrow  will  your  augustness  con- 
descend to  remind  decayed  me  to  buy  some  honorable 
tea?  "  etc. 

If  I  wished  to  look  at  the  laundry  marks  on  Gardner's 
collars,  to  see  if  the  august  washerwoman  was  not  a 
thief,  I  should  say :  "  May  I  turn  towards  your  honorable 
collars  my  adoring  glance?  "  but  if  I  wished  Gardner 
to  look  at  something  of  mine,  I  should  say :  "  O  Gardner, 
Prince,  august  glance  deign  towards  my  meretricious 
cake  of  Persian  healing  pine-tar  soap,"  or  whatever  it 
was. 

It  so  happened  that  our  kimono  were  quite  alike,  it 
having  been  necessary  to  buy  three  pieces  of  silk  to  make 
two  robes — one  piece,  according  to  the  new  police  regu- 
lations, not  being  sufficient  to  clothe  a  foreigner.  Often 
we  mixed  these  up,  and  in  trying  to  explain  in  Japanese 
(English  being  taboo  out  of  school  hours)  we  had  some 
difficulty  in  establishing  which  was  whose,  and  our 
honorifics  got  into  a  mess.  For  the  life  of  me  I  could 
not  say  whether  the  robe  in  my  hand  was  Gardner's 
august  mantle  or  my  unmentionable  rags.  Gardner 
would  be  in  equal  mystery  as  to  what  he  held.  Then  he 
would  deliver  himself  as  to  the  august  forgetfulness  of 
the  honorable  idiot  that  had  disarranged  the  room  that 
morning  under  the  pretense  of  sweeping  up,  and  would 
say: 

"  Well,  let's  wear  them  as  they  are.  Your  heavenly 
attire  may  now  have  become  by  my  possession  even  as 
that  righteousness  which  has  not  faith.  Who  knows? 

[82] 


THINKING    IN    JAPANESE 

Let  us  label  them  somewhere  inside  the  sleeve  where  the 
mark  won't  show." 

Having  settled  this  we  started  in  on  a  few  sentences, 
our  daily  commitment.  Below  are  some  samples  I  give 
on  Professor  Chamberlain's  authority.  In  the  first  line 
are  the  Japanese  words,  which  flow  easily  as  Italian,  and 
with  as  little  emphasis  on  syllables  as  there  is  in  French. 
The  consonants  sound  as  in  English  generally,  and  the 
vowels  as  in  Italian.  Then  comes  the  interlinear  trans- 
lation. In  the  third  line  is  the  free  English  translation, 
which  shows  how  the  idea  hidden  in  the  Japanese  sen- 
tence looks  when  it  appears  in  English.  Not  only  is  the 
second  line  literal,  but  it  represents,  as  accurately  as 
English  words  can,  the  order  and  sequence  of  the  ideas 
as  they  exist  in  the  Japanese  mind.  After  this  tran- 
script of  a  native  thought,  it  is  not  impossible  to  believe 
that  globe-trotting  book-writers  sometimes  fall  short  of 
perfect  comprehension  when  they  describe  the  workings 
of  the  Far  Eastern  mind.  A  globe-trotter  once  uttered 
at  his  guide  whom  he  wished  to  peel  some  oranges, 
"  Boy,  mikan  kimono  syonara,"  i.  e.,  "  Boy,  orange 
clothes  good-by." 

That  the  Japanese  think  differently  from  the  Euro- 
peans is  evident  enough.  Their  mental  machinery  is 
of  another  kind — the  product  of  a  different  factory — 
and  put  together  on  different  principles  of  construc- 
tion. An  occurrence  that  suggests  a  certain  train 
of  thought  to  the  European  suggests  a  totally  dif- 
ferent train  of  thought  to  the  Japanese.  His  whole 
intellectual  inheritance  is  different,  as  well  as  his  per- 

[83] 


THE    HEART   OF   JAPAN 

sonal  experience,  his  environment  during  childhood,  and 
the  habits  of  the  society  of  which  he  has  been  a  member. 
His  ideals  spring  from  a  different  source,  and  his  point 
of  view  is  vastly  different.  As  one  instance  of  this,  the 
absence  of  the  words  "  you  "  and  "  I  "  is  illustrative. 
He  has  no  real  pronouns  in  his  language,  but  when  he 
would  present  the  idea  of  "  you  "  he  says  "  honorable 
side  " — the  idea  being  that  the  side  of  the  room  at  which 
you  sit  is  the  place  of  honor,  while  he  is  humbly  at  your 
feet.  If  he  would  say  "  I "  he  uses  the  word  "  wata- 
kushi "  (pronounced  wa-ta-k-shi),  which  means  selfish- 
ness. 

A  study  of  the  interlinear  translations  is  the  only  way 
to  get  at  the  "  Japanese  mode."  Here  are  some  speci- 
mens: 

0  ki  no  doku       Sama. 
Honorable  poison-of-the-spirit  Mr. 

1  am  sorry  for  your  sake. 

Go  burei  moshi-agemashita 

August  rudeness  (I)  said-lifted 
I  was  very  rude  to  you. 

Kiite  itadakite  gozaimasu 

Hearing  wishing-to-put-on-the-head        am 
I  wish  you  would  be  so  kind  as  to  ask. 

0  shiete  itadakitai 
Teaching  wish-to-put-on-the-head 

1  wish  you  would  be  so  kind  as  to  show  me  how. 

[84] 


THINKING    IN    JAPANESE 
Futo  omoi-dashimashita 

Suddenly  think-have-put-out 
It  has  just  occurred  to  me. 

Tsukai  ga        iki-chigai 

Messengers    (nominative)  go-differ 

ni     narimashita 

to  became 

The  two  messengers  crossed  each  other. 

lenai  koto   wa          nai 

Cannot-say  fact  as-for,  is-not 
It  can  be  said. 

Watakushi  wa         agaru  koto 
Me  as-for,  go-up  fact 

ga          dekimasen  kara 

(nominative)    forthcomes-not  because, 

anata          ga  o 

you         (nominative)       honorable 

ide     kudasam    koto       ga 
exit    condensed  fact  (nominative) 

dekimasu     nara  o 
forthcomes  if       honorable 

me     ni   kakarimasho 
eyes  on  will-probably-hang 
[85] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

As  I  cannot  go  to  you,  I  can  only  see  if  you  will  be 
so  kind  as  to  come  to  me. 

Go  busata        itashimashita 

August  remissness  (I)  have-done 

I  have  been  sadly  remiss  about  calling  upon  you. 

O  jama      itashimashita 

Honorable  obstacle  (I)  have-done 
Excuse  me  for  having  interrupted  you. 

Yoppodo  beppin  de 

very  extra-quality  being 

wa  nai  ka 

is-not? 

Isn't  she  very  pretty? 

America     no  o  kata 

America's       honorable  side 
An  American  gentleman. 

We  said  these  over  and  over  on  all  occasions,  and  even 
invented  occasions  particularly  for  their  use.  We 
became  so  polite  that  we  found  it  difficult  to  speak 
truthfully,  and  if  we  had  not  known  each  other  so  well 
we  should  have  become  suspicious  indeed. 

One  day  as  I  returned  from  a  conversation  class  of 
young  Buddhists  not  far  away,  I  heard  Gardner  recite 
the  following.  I  have  it  exactly,  for  I  copied  it  from 
the  text-book  he  was  studying: 

"  No,  indeed !  having  risen  hands  wash  act  even  forth- 
[86] 


THINKING    IN    JAPANESE 

comes  not  was.  Washing  basin's  water  altogether 
freeze-sticking  having  finished  how  doing  even  doing 
way  is  not  was."  My  heart  beat  with  joy.  At  last  he 
had  learned  to  think  in  Japanese.  Should  anyone  be 
skeptical  as  to  Gardner's  accuracy,  let  him  look  in  Cham- 
berlain's "  Colloquial  Japanese,"  p.  263,  the  second  ex- 
ample on  the  page.  Here  it  is: 

lya,  mo  !       okite  te  wo       arau 

No  indeed  having-risen  hands  (apart!cie;e  wash 

koto  mo     dekimasen  deshita. 

act     even  forth  comes  not  was 

Chozu        bachi      no        mizu        ga 

Wncliinrr    Kacin    (Po8seesive    .-rof0_.  (nominative 
W  asmng    basin    particle  )       Water  v  particle) 

maru  de     kori-tsuite          shimatte 
altogether  freeze-sticking  having-finished 

do      shite     mo     shiyo  ga 

how  doing  even  doing-way 


arimasen   deshita 
is-not  was 

And  this  is  the  translation: 

"  No,  indeed  !  When  I  got  up,  I  couldn't  wash  mj 
hands.  The  basin  was  entirely  frozen  over,  and  all  my 
efforts  to  break  the  ice  were  in  vain." 


[87] 


CHAPTER   ELEVEN 

BO  CHAN 

WE  had  not  been  with  Okashi  long  before  we 
had  made  friends  with  the  babies  of  the  im- 
mediate neighborhood — more  than  two  dozen 
of  them  all  told.      Like  other  bachelors,  we  were  au- 
thorities on  infants.     Our  knowledge  helped  us  with  the 
west -coast  youngsters. 

I  am  sure  that  it  is  true  to-day  as  it  was  forty  years 
ago,  when  Sir  Rutherford  Alcock  wrote :  "  And  this, 
I  should  say,  is  the  very  paradise  of  babies."  Sir 
Rutherford  saw  innumerable  infants  in  the  three  years 
he  was  in  Japan,  and  as  he  was  a  physician  as  well  as 
a  diplomat,  and  a  keen  observer,  as  all  physicians  and 
diplomats  should  be,  we  may  take  it  that  he  spoke  the 
truth.  Judging  by  his  descriptions  of  the  native  young- 
sters it  is  small  wonder  that  Her  Majesty's  Minister  to 
the  Court  of  the  "  Great  Prince,"  or  Tycoon,  as  for- 
eigners called  the  Shogun  in  those  days,  had  to  write 
about  them.  He  could  not  help  it.  His  book,  by  the 
way,  "  The  Capital  of  the  Tycoon,"  is  a  vivid  and  de- 
lightful picture  of  the  days  when  Old  Japan  was  passing 
away  and  New  Japan  was  nearly  ready  to  come  out  of  its 
chrysalis. 

Japanese  babies  of  the  twentieth  century  are  as  irre- 
sistible as  they  were  when  Sir  Rutherford  played  with 

[88] 


BO    CHAN 

them.  They  are  precocious,  too,  for  they  are  a  year 
old  the  moment  they  are  born,  and  two  years  old  the 
first  New  Year's  Day.  That  is  the  way  the  Japanese 
reckon  age ;  counting  the  year  in  which  the  baby  is  born 
"  one,"  the  next  year  "  two,"  and  so  on.  If  you  had 
been  born  in  Japan  just  as  the  temple  bell  was  about  to 
strike  twelve  the  night  of  December  31,  you  would  be, 
according  to  the  Japanese  mind,  two  years  old  at  the 
first  clang.  So  in  Japan,  which  to  Europeans  and 
Americans  is  a  very  strange  country  indeed,  one  of  a 
pair  of  twins  might  be  a  year  older  than  the  other. 

Some  travelers  to  this  wonderful  Empire  have  said 
that  Japanese  babies  never  cry.  That  is  not  quite  true. 
They  have  all  the  apparatus  necessary — midriff,  lungs, 
and  vocal  cords  in  excellent  condition,  and  they  know 
how  to  use  these  with  effect;  but  nevertheless  one  sees 
fewer  tears  in  the  Land  of  the  Rising  Sun,  and  hears 
less  wailing,  than  in  other  countries.  This  surprises  the 
visitor,  for  he  notes  the  throngs  of  children  in  the  streets 
— the  playground  for  almost  all  the  youngsters  in 
Japan;  he  sees  them  tumble  about  so  on  their  rather 
awkward  wooden  clogs,  falling  often  with  a  good  hard 
"  splap  "  upon  the  roadway,  that  he  wonders  at  hearing 
only  shouts  of  glee  and  laughter.  The  children  bounce 
about  as  harmlessly  as  rubber  balls.  Often  when  a 
youngster  stumbles  and  goes  down  with  force  enough 
almost  to  dent  the  pavement,  the  stranger  looking  on  is 
sure  there  will  be  weeping.  But  the  child  is  up  again 
quickly ;  there  is  the  little  pause  which  children  at  home 
use  in  gathering  all  their  energy  for  a  great  boo-hoo! 

[89] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

(the  stranger  knows  it  is  coming  and  wonders  what  it 
will  sound  like  in  Japanese)  ;  then,  having  recalled  what 
it  was  thinking  about  at  the  instant  it  fell,  the  young- 
ster scampers  on  as  merrily  as  before.  The  fall  had  in- 
terrupted its  train  of  thought  for  the  moment,  that 
was  all. 

Because  the  children  play  all  over  the  streets,  one 
needs  a  "  betto  "  when  one  goes  out  for  a  drive  in  Japan. 
A  betto  is  a  footman — a  most  appropriate  word — whose 
business  it  is  to  run  on  ahead  of  the  horse  to  clear  the 
way.  He  does  not  lack  for  exercise,  for  his  arms  and 
legs  are  busy  from  the  time  the  drive  begins  until  it  is 
over.  Japanese  children  are  not  too  careful,  and  their 
mothers  do  not  use  nearly  as  many  safeguards  as  do  the 
women  of  Western  countries,  but  there  are  fewer  acci- 
dents. This  is  rather  a  mystery,  for  every  Japanese 
house  had  an  "  engawa,"  or  porch,  and  these  porches  do 
not  have  fences  along  the  edge  to  keep  the  infants  from 
falling  off,  nor  are  there  gates  at  the  tops  of  stairways, 
when  the  houses  happen  to  have  stairways,  yet  I  never 
saw  a  Japanese  child  fall  downstairs  nor  off  a  porch, 
nor  ever  heard  of  anyone  else  witnessing  such  a  mishap. 

Another  thing  about  these  youngsters  is  that  they  are 
all  little  gentlemen  and  ladies — merry  and  happy  as 
possible,  but  not  rough.  Mrs.  Chaplin-Ayrton  says  this 
trait  may  be  more  apparent  than  real,  for  a  grown  per- 
son judges  of  the  roughness  of  children's  play  by  the 
number  of  things  they  break,  and  in  a  Japanese  house 
there  is  no  furniture  or  bric-a-brac  to  destroy — not  even 
chairs,  for  the  natives  sit  on  the  floor.  On  the  other 

[90] 


BO    CHAN 

hand,  Professor  Chamberlain  lays  this  gentleness  to  less 
robust  health,  which  means  less  animal  spirits  than 
foreign  children  have. 

However  this  may  be,  the  health  officers  say  that  the 
death  rate  for  children  is  lower  in  Japan  than  it  is  in 
Europe  and  in  America.  This  is  as  it  should  be,  in  a 
country  where  the  houses  are  off  the  ground  a  foot  or 
two  and  have  no  cellars,  and  the  air  inside  is  as  fresh 
as  it  is  out,  where,  too,  in  such  places  at  least  as  Tokio, 
everyone  bathes  and  has  a  good  scrubbing  every  day. 
From  800,000  to  1,000,000  persons  go  to  the  public 
baths  of  the  capital  daily,  and  there  are  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  private  baths  besides.  That  is  a  good  show- 
ing for  a  city  with  a  population  of  less  than  two 
millions. 

When  an  infant  is  seven  days  old,  its  mother  displays 
her  talent  as  a  barber  by  shaving  its  head  all  but  a  little 
bit  at  the  back  of  the  neck  right  at  the  base  of  the 
skull,  like  a  goatee  that  had  strayed  from  its  proper 
place.  Later  on  she  experiments  with  various  designs 
to  discover  the  most  becoming.  Sometimes  she  shaves 
the  top  and  the  rim,  and  leaves  a  tonsure;  sometimes 
she  leaves  only  the  rim;  sometimes  a  scalplock  and  two 
lovelocks  only,  but  always  she  is  picturesque.  This 
decorative  shaving  process  continues  until  the  youngster 
goes  to  school,  say,  when  he  or  she  is  five  or  six.  Then, 
usually,  the  mother  also  weans  him. 

A  disagreeable  result  often  attends  this  shaving  among 
the  children  of  the  lower  classes;  not  serious  at  all,  but 
offensive  to  the  sight.  It  is  eczema.  Heads  are  sometimes 

[91] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

white  with  it.  The  only  thing  necessary  for  its  disap- 
pearance is  soap  and  water,  but  in  this  one  case  Japanese 
superstition  says  "  no  "  to  soap  and  water.  Poverty 
and  superstition  are  often  hand  in  hand,  and  the  Japan- 
ese poor  have  many  superstitions.  They  believe  the 
cause  of  the  eczema  is  the  ill  health  in  their  children 
working  through  the  scalp,  an  outward  and  visible  sign 
of  an  inward  and  physical  wickedness.  This  physical 
wickedness  they  wish  their  children  to  be  rid  of,  so  they 
encourage  eczema.  They  wash  the  youngsters'  faces  and 
bodies  daily,  but  omit  the  shampoo.  Professor  Cham- 
berlain calls  attention  to  the  fact,  anent  Japanese 
*'  topsy-turvydom,"  that  young  subjects  of  the  Mikado 
stop  shaving  when  they  begin  to  go  to  school  instead  of 
beginning  to  shave  when  they  leave  off  going  to  school. 

After  what  has  been  said  about  the  Japanese  way  of 
reckoning  age  it  may  seem  strange  they  should  have 
birthday  celebrations,  or  else  one  might  think  it  would 
be  consistent  with  the  native  custom  for  everyone  to 
celebrate  his  or  her  birthday  on  January  1.  There  is  a 
grand  national  birthday  then,  that  lasts  two  weeks; 
but  apart  from  this  there  are  two  more  birthday  celer 
brations — one  on  the  third  day  of  the  third  month 
(March  3)  for  all  the  girls  in  Japan,  and  the  other  on 
the  fifth  day  of  the  fifth  month  (May  5)  for  all  the 
boys. 

The  girls  celebrate  with  a  festival  of  dolls.  At  that 
time  Japan,  which  in  many  ways  suggests  a  land  of 
dolls  to  the  European,  is  "  dollier  "  than  ever.  The  dolls 
are  of  all  kinds  and  sizes,  and  often  wonderfully  life- 

[92] 


BO    CHAN 

like,  so  that  at  first  glance  one  is  not  sure  whether  a  girl 
is  playing  with  a  real  baby  or  a  make-believe.  Japanese 
girls  carry  their  dolls  about  on  their  backs  snugly  tucked 
away  inside  their  jackets,  just  as  Japanese  nurses  carry 
babies.  And,  oddly  enough,  nurses  in  Japan  are  often 
not  much  older  than  the  babies  they  are  caring  for. 
Sometimes  one  sees  a  little  nurse  playing  hopscotch  while 
a  baby  is  fast  asleep  on  her  back,  its  tiny  head  rolling 
about  this  way  and  that,  and  its  face  looking  upright  at 
the  sun,  so  that  were  it  not  for  the  protection  of  its 
thick  eyelids  the  glare  would  make  it  blind. 

The  boys  have  a  grand  time  of  it,  too,  when  their 
turn  comes.  Then  the  air  is  full  of  fishes,  as  two  months 
earlier  the  streets  were  full  of  dolls.  The  fishes  are 
"  koi,"  as  the  Japanese  call  them;  scientific  men  say  they 
are  Cyprinus  hcematoptems,  but  they  are  much  better 
looking  than  that,  though  fully  as  long.  What  they 
represent  is  large  carp  swimming  bravely  against  the 
stream,  as  the  parents  hope  their  sons  will  do  on  reaching 
man's  estate.  The  carp,  which  are  attached  to  the  tops 
of  tall  poles,  are  hollow,  with  wide-open  mouths  and 
paper  bodies,  through  which  the  breezes  blow,  keeping 
them  distended,  and  swaying  to  and  fro  in  a  movement 
similar  to  swimming.  Every  house  where  there  are  boys 
has  these  fishes  up  aloft,  and  many  other  carp  down 
below,  but  of  a  kind  that  taste  better  than  paper  ones 
full  of  wind. 

Hopscotch  is  by  no  means  the  only  game  Japanese 
boys  and  girls  have  in  common  with  children  in  other 
parts  of  the  world.  They  have  battledore  and  shuttle- 

[93] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

cock,  archery,  bouncing-balls,  tops,  kites,  prisoner's  base, 
snow-man,  snow-forts,  puss-in-the-corner,  fencing,  peas- 
pudding  hot,  flower  cards,  and  many  forfeit  games. 

Their  battledores  are  works  of  art.  In  shape  they 
are  something  like  a  short  paddle,  but  with  square 
corners  instead  of  round.  The  face  is  smooth  polished 
wood,  and  the  back  ornamented  with  striking  designs 
in  relief,  often  portraits  of  famous  actors  or  heroes  of 
ancient  times.  The  shuttlecock  is  the  same  sort  of 
thing  that  children  use  in  this  country.  Archery  is 
popular,  and  many  Japanese  have  great  skill  at  it. 
Their  bows  are  strong.  When  not  strung,  these  appear 
to  be  wrong  side  out,  so  queerly  are  they  bent.  The 
archery  rules  are  rather  formal  as  to  the  position  one 
should  stand  in,  and  irksome  to  the  beginner  unless  he 
is  an  enthusiast.  There  is  a  sort  of  baby  archery,  too, 
for  indoors,  which  is  amusing.  The  bows  are  a  foot  and 
a  half  long,  perhaps,  and  the  arrows  about  twelve  inches 
from  notch  to  point. 

Japanese  girls  and  boys  are  as  clever  as  jugglers  with 
their  bouncing  balls.  While  keeping  them  going  they 
play  at  posture  dancing  also,  spinning  round,  clapping 
their  hands,  passing  a  fan  over  and  under  the  ball,  catch- 
ing it  on  the  backs  of  their  hands  and  guiding  it  round 
the  room  or  along  the  road  at  will.  They  would  make 
pretty  pictures  for  the  cinematograph.  Tops  and  kites 
are  much  the  same  as  those  commonly  seen  in  this  coun- 
try. The  youngsters  have  kite  battles.  They  gum  pow- 
dered glass  to  the  strings  and  each  tries  to  cut  the  other's 
kite  free. 

[94] 


BO    CHAN 

The  Japanese  have  some  wonderful  tricks  with  tops, 
and  the  visitor  should  be  sure  to  see  the  top- juggler, 
who  can  send  his  top  humming  up  one  arm,  across  his 
shoulders,  and  down  the  other  arm,  on  to  the  palm  of 
his  hand,  or  out  on  to  the  end  of  a  fan,  whence  he  will 
make  it  jump  to  the  edge  of  a  sword,  where  it  will  spin 
as  comfortably  as  though  it  were  on  solid  ground.  Then 
he  can  also  throw  it  so  that  it  will  return  to  him,  boom- 
erang fashion.  He  can  also  spin  two  tops  together,  one 
inside  the  other. 

"  Prisoner's  base  "  is  the  same  in  this  country,  except 
that  the  officer  is  called  "  oni,"  which  means  demon,  or 
ghost,  or  evil  spirit.  "  Puss-in-the-corner  "  is  an  oni 
also.  "  Blind-man's  buff  "  is  quite  the  same,  but  if  you 
play  it  with  Japanese  I  may  warn  you  not  to  say  "  come 
here,"  in  English,  to  anyone  you  may  be  trying  to  catch. 
It  will  be  all  right  to  say  in  Japanese,  "  chotto  oide  " 
("  come  here  a  moment  "),  or  "  oide  nasai  "  ("  conde- 
scend to  come  here  " ) .  The  person  spoken  to  will  not 
"  oide,"  of  course,  if  he  or  she  can  help  himself  or  her- 
self, but  if  you  called  out  in  English,  "  Come  here,"  as 
I  know  a  foreigner  did  once,  you  may  interrupt  the 
game.  Come  here  ( in  Japanese  characters  written  "  ka- 
me ")  means  foreign  dog.  "  Inu "  is  the  word  for 
native  dog,  but  the  first  foreigners  in  Yokohama,  Ameri- 
can and  English  folk,  always  said  "  come  here  "  to  their 
dogs,  and  the  expression  has  become  the  native  word  for 
dogs  not  Japanese. 

Stilts,  as  the  children  use  them  in  Japan,  would  not 
Le  comfortable  for  European  children,  unless  they  were 

[95] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

accustomed  to  go  barefoot,  as  nearly  all  native  children 
go  in  Japan.  The  long,  upright  pole  comes  up  between 
the  big  toe  and  the  next  toe  to  it,  and  the  whole  length 
of  the  foot  rests  on  the  round  cross  piece,  which  sticks 
out  like  one  arm  of  a  cross.  The  foot  really  grasps 
the  pole  monkey  fashion,  for,  being  accustomed  to  clogs 
and  the  thongs  that  hold  the  clogs  on,  the  Japanese  foot 
is  much  more  prehensile  than  the  European  foot. 

Experts  say  that  Japanese  "  Checkers,"  which  the 
natives  call  "  Go,"  is  more  difficult  than  our  chess.  All 
classes  of  society  play  it  a  great  deal.  Good  players 
receive  diplomas.  There  are  grand  national  tourna- 
ments, and  the  championship  brings  great  honor  to  the 
holder  and  to  his  house.  It  is  said  that  one  family  has 
won  this  continuously  for  over  one  hundred  years. 
"  Shogi,"  or  Japanese  chess,  is  a  difficult  game,  but  so 
popular  that  even  the  jin-riki-sha  coolies  play  it  well. 

Fencing  is  something  that  both  men  and  women  used 
to  study  in  the  days  of  the  "  samurai  "  (knights)  and 
their  two  swords.  It  sounds  much  rougher  than  it  really 
it,  for  the  long,  two-handed  bamboo  sticks  make  a  loud 
report  whenever  they  strike. 

The  Japanese  call  our  cards  "  Turampu  "  (trumps), 
and  play  them  as  we  do,  but  they  have  a  tiny  set  of 
their  own  which  they  call  "  Hana  "  (flowers)  and  deal 
round  to  the  right  instead  of  to  the  left  as  we  deal.  A 
good  lot  of  the  fun  comes  in  with  the  scoring;  sometimes 
the  losers  receive  a  black  mark  on  the  face  with  a  brush 
for  each  point  they  lose.  The  winners  give  them  these 
marks  on  the  face  with  India  ink.  At  the  end  of  an 

[96] 


,1."'" 
„.""' 
siiH'111 
iiilll'" 


BO    CHAN 

evening's  playing  the  players  look  not  unlike  tattooed 
savages. 

The.  game  of  "  Jackstones  "  or  "Knuckle-bones"  is 
common  all  over  the  country,  but  the  children  use  small 
bags  instead  of  knuckle-bones,  for  Japan  is  not  a  mutton 
country.  Sheep  do  not  thrive,  because  they  have  a 
habit  of  eating  bamboo  grass,  which  is  said  to  spoil  both 
their  wool  and  the  meat. 

The  game  of  "  Kitsune  "  (Fox),  is  famous  for  the 
quickness  it  demands.  To  play  it,  make  a  slip-noose 
in  the  middle  of  a  length  of  rope.  Two  players  take 
hold  of  this  rope,  one  at  each  end,  and  hold  it  as  nearly 
taut  as  they  can  without  closing  the  noose.  The  noose 
is  the  trap.  A  third  player,  the  fox,  sits  halfway  be- 
tween those  holding  the  rope,  facing  the  noose.  Just 
opposite  to  him,  on  the  other  side  of  the  noose,  is  a  cup 
or  a  cake,  which  is  the  prize.  The  fox's  object  is  to 
reach  through  the  noose,  grab  the  prize,  and  pull  it 
back  through  the  noose  before  the  two  players  holding 
the  rope  can  catch  him  in  the  trap.  If  they  catch  him 
he  pays  a  forfeit,  if  they  do  not  he  takes  the  cake. 

Another  game,  "  Hana,  hana "  (Nose,  nose),  has 
something  of  the  same  idea  in  it  as  "  Simon  says 
*  thumbs  up.' '  Sight,  in  some  cases,  controls  action 
more  effectively  than  sound,  and  in  "  Hana,  hana  "  the 
leader  takes  advantage  of  this  by  ordering  one  thing 
while  doing  another.  The  other  players  are  apt  to  fol- 
low the  motions  rather  than  the  commands.  For  in- 
stance, the  girl  (or  boy)  at  the  head  tips  his  nose  with 
his  first  finger,  saying  "  Nose,  nose,  nose,  eye ! "  at  the 

[97] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

same  time  putting  his  finger  to  his  chin.  The  others, 
who  must  be  looking  into  the  leader's  face,  will  find  their 
fingers  on  their  chins  too,  unless  they  are  alert.  t  They 
should  have  touched  their  eyes  in  obedience  to  the  com- 
mand "  eyes,"  if  they  would  not  receive  an  ink  spot  or 
pay  some  other  forfeit. 

Still  another  "  Hana "  game  is  with  a  lot  of  loops 
of  string,  and  is  perhaps  as  amusing  to  children  as  any 
game  can  be.  The  loops  must  be  made  to  order,  one 
for  each  player,  and  must  fit  tightly  round  behind  the 
ear  and  over  the  tip  of  the  nose.  If  it  is  well  on,  and 
the  player's  nose  is  not  too  retrousse,  the  loop  should  not 
fall  off  without  considerable  effort  on  the  player's  part, 
especially  as  he  or  she  may  use  the  face  muscles  only. 
Other  things  being  equal,  the  best  face-maker  works  his 
loop  off  first  and  wins. 

Something  similar  to  bobbing  for  apples  is  a  game 
that  even  grandfathers  play  along  with  their  grand- 
children in  Japan.  It  is  easy  there,  because  Japanese 
floors  are  covered  with  thick,  soft  mats.  Hard  floors 
would  not  do,  for  a  part  of  the  game  is  that  the  players 
must  walk  on  their  knees.  They  hold  their  feet  up 
behind  them,  one  in  each  hand,  and  toddle  forward  to 
the  center  of  the  room,  where  a  fruit  or  a  cake  or  a  bis- 
cuit hangs  from  the  ceiling  by  a  string.  The  idea  is 
to  bite  out  a  piece,  but  biting  and  balancing  are  diffi- 
cult to  do  simultaneously.  There  is  much  tumbling 
about  and  rolling  over.  Hence  the  fun. 

"  Kitsune  ken  "  is  a  forfeit  game  for  two  or  for  any 
number  of  players.  The  players  use  signs  for  "  kit- 

[98] 


BO    CHAN 

sune"  (fox),  "teppo"  (gun),  and  "otoko"  (man). 
The  idea  of  the  game  is  that  the  man  is  mightier  than 
the  gun,  the  gun  more  deadly  than  the  fox,  and  the  fox 
more  cunning  than  the  man.  Hands  on  the  thighs  or 
hips  is  the  sign  for  "  otoko  " ;  one  hand  at  the  side  and 
the  other  higher  and  in  front  of  the  body,  as  though 
aiming  a  gun,  is  for  "  teppo  " ;  while  both  hands  up,  one 
at  each  side  of  the  head  like  a  fox's  ears,  is  "  kitsune." 
The  players  sit  facing  each  other,  clap  hands,  or  chant 
a  line  of  a  song;  and  at  the  end  of  this  each  makes  a 
sign.  If  both  signs  are  alike  there  is  no  count,  but  if 
one  makes  the  fox  sign  and  the  other  the  man  sign,  the 
man  sign  loses  and  has  to  submit  to  the  forfeit.  So  the 
"  man  >J  sign  wins  over  the  "  gun  "  sign,  and  the  "  gun  " 
sign  wins  over  the  "  fox  "  sign. 

Exactly  the  same  in  principle  is  the  forfeit  game  with 
one  hand,  where  a  closed  fist  represents  a  stone,  an  open 
palm  a  handkerchief,  and  the  first  and  second  fingers 
extended  apart  with  the  other  two  fingers  and  thumb 
closed,  represent  scissors.  Stone  beats  scissors,  handker- 
chief beats  stone,  and  scissors  beat  handkerchief.  The 
players  chant  as  in  kitsune  ken  and  pop  out  their  hands 
at  the  end  of  the  last  word. 

Thumb  wrestling  is  a  common  game,  too.  Players 
grasp  hands  with  the  thumbs  sticking  up,  holding  each 
other  by  the  four  fingers  only.  The  wrestling  is  a  battle 
of  thumbs,  each  thumb  trying  to  bend  the  other  down 
forward  and  hold  it  there. 

There  are  some  hand-slapping  tricks,  too,  but  one 
would  need  a  cinematograph  to  explain  them  clearly. 

[99] 


CHAPTER   TWELVE 

O  JO  SAMA 

ONE  needs  to  see  Japanese  girls  at  home  if  one 
would  know  them,  needs  to  live  in  the  same 
household  with  them  the  year  round,  for  there 
is  much  in  their  gentle  lives  they  do  not  discover  readily. 
We  had  a  roomful  in  a  class  over  in  Okashi  San's,  and 
we  saw  much  of  the  daughters  of  the  families  near  by, 
but  I  suspect  we  never  quite  fathomed  "  O  Jo  Sama." 
The  glimpses  travelers  have  in  Tokio  and  in  the  seaport 
cities,  where  one  sees  native  girls  in  the  shops  and  the 
bazaars,  in  the  restaurants,  in  the  streets,  round  about 
the  temple  grounds,  and  in  hundreds  of  the  public 
schools,  do  not  tell  the  story. 

It  is  better  to  go  into  the  country  to  those  wonderfully 
picturesque  and  dainty  homes  along  some  old  Kaido  that 
the  railways  have  not  yet  molested,  where  life  to-day  is 
the  same  that  it  was  a  thousand  years  ago.  There  one 
may  see  Japanese  character  as  ages  of  feudalism 
molded  it  and  left  it  hardly  a  quarter  of  a  century 
since,  and  may  study  the  chief  glory  of  this  character 
— Japanese  girls. 

Japanese  men  do  not  know  chivalry,  as  Westerners 
understand  the  word,  but  the  womenfolk  in  twoscore 
generations  of  repression  are  marvels  of  gentleness,  dis- 
cretion, and  absolute  unselfishness.  A  life  that  would 

[100] 


O    JO    SAM  A 

be  intolerable  to  an  American  or  to  an  English  girl  is 
normal  to  the  daughters  of  the  Rising  Sun,  who  meet 
its  restrictions  and  encumbrances  with  tact,  patience,  and 
unending  cheerfulness.  How  she  can  do  so  is  difficult 
to  understand,  nor  does  seeing  this  perennial  sunshine 
make  the  believing  in  it  altogether  easy.  At  first, 
though  one  may  wonder  and  admire,  and  even  reverence, 
the  merry  little  body,  one  doubts  there  may  be  somewhat 
in  her  heart  her  looks  belie.  But  on  knowing  her,  as 
one  sees  her  in  the  household  daily  through  the  year,  one 
comes  to  believe  that  in  the  long  line  of  her  ancestors  a 
process  has  been  at  work,  with  the  result  that  those 
organs  whose  function  is  the  display  of  irritation  have 
become  atrophied. 

The  opinion  of  Marion  Crawford's  sister,  Mrs.  Hugh 
Fraser,  is  worthy  of  attention.  She  was  in  Japan  for 
years  with  her  husband  while  he  was  Minister  Plenipo- 
tentiary in  Tokio.  Mrs.  Fraser  says,  "  In  real  womanli- 
ness, which  I  take  to  mean  a  high  combination  of  sense 
and  sweetness,  valor  and  humility,  the  Japanese  lady 
ranks  with  any  woman  in  the  world,  and  passes  before 
most  of  them." 

One  of  these  object  lessons  in  the  gentler  virtues  was 
Ay  a  San,  who  lived  not  a  great  way  from  Tokio,  the 
busy  heart  of  the  Empire;  she  was  as  jolly  a  youngster 
as  one  often  sees  even  in  Japan,  and  that  is  saying 
much.  Though  she  lived  so  near  the  capital,  she  knew 
little  of  it.  Household  work  and  studies  kept  her  too 
busy  for  sight-seeing.  Her  parents  had  come  from  near 
Kiyoto.  They  were  of  a  southern  class  that  had  dis- 

[101] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

persed  after  the  revolution  of  1868.  The  father,  who 
was  a  "  samurai,"  that  is,  of  the  military  class,  had  the 
luck  to  receive  a  Government  appointment  in  Tokio  and 
then  the  luck  to  die.  This  left  Aya  San  with  her  mother, 
her  grandfather,  and  an  infant  brother,  and  a  pension 
of  four  yen — about  two  dollars — a  month. 

The  income  was  not  much  for  a  family  of  gentlefolk 
to  live  on,  but  in  those  days  when  the  daimiyo  were  dis- 
charging their  retainers  and  handing  their  provinces 
over  to  the  central  Government,  many  a  samurai  house- 
hold had  less  than  that  assured.  It  was  different  indeed 
compared  to  the  days  before  the  restoration,  when  the 
Shogun  ruled  and  the  Mikado  was  a  sacred  prisoner. 
Then  the  samurai  had  a  large  allowance  from  the  rice- 
fields  of  his  native  province.  My  lord,  the  daimiyo,  had 
seen  to  that.  But  now — six  cents  a  day  and  four  per- 
sons to  live  on  it.  However,  they  managed  honorably 
one  way  or  another,  and  so  Aya's  story  is  different  from 
that  of  many  a  samurai's  daughter. 

Oka  San,  the  mother,  was  of  a  sort  one  rarely  sees  in 
Tokio  to-day,  excepting  on  the  stage,  though  in  the 
country  she  is  still  in  evidence.  In  a  few  years  she  will 
have  disappeared  entirely,  for  she  is  of  the  old  order. 
Like  the  women  of  her  time,  Oka  San  shaved  her  eye- 
brows when  she  left  her  own  home  to  become  a  member 
of  her  husband's  family,  and  had  stained  her  teeth  jet 
black.  When  she  became  a  widow  she  cut  her  hair. 
Short  hair,  no  eyebrows,  and  black  teeth  reads  like  a 
combination  fatal  to  all  attractiveness,  nor  are  they 
agreeable  to  the  unaccustomed  eye.  After  a  little,  how- 

[102] 


O    JO    SAMA 

ever,  one  ceases  to  remark  them,  and  in  the  case  of  Oka 
San  they  did  not  destroy  her  charm,  for  her  gentle 
kindliness  of  manner  obliterated  all  thought  of  them. 

Oji  San,  the  grandfather,  was  an  old  man  long  in  re- 
tirement— "  inkiyo,"  as  the  Japanese  say.  His  wants 
were  simple.  He  spent  his  time  at  chess,  and  writing 
poetry,  and  reading  the  Chinese  classics.  Ay  a  San  and 
Oka  San  had  great  reverence  for  him.  They  loved  him 
doubtless,  too,  though  in  their  tongue  the  word  to  use 
towards  elders  means  to  venerate.  He  it  was  who  in- 
structed them  in  "  Onna  Daigaku  "  ("  The  Whole  Duty 
of  Women,"  as  Professor  Chamberlain  translates  the 
title  of  the  ancient  treatise).1  This  was  their  gospel. 
Women  of  the  West  would  have  small  patience  with  it, 
but  Aya  San  and  her  mother  believed  it  was  very  truth 
indeed.  A  man  wrote  it,  of  course,  one  Kaibara  by 
name,  who  was  a  famous  moralist. 

Oji  San  used  to  read  "  The  Whole  Duty"  to  them, 
sitting  on  his  cushion  by  the  fire-box  and  arranging  the 
charcoals  now  and  then  with  the  tiny  fire-tongs,  so  that 
they  would  burn  well  and  keep  the  water  in  the  small 
iron  kettle  hot  for  his  frequent  cups  of  tea. 

"  Onna  Daigaku "  begins  as  follows,  according  to 
Professor  Chamberlain's  translation.  One  would  think 
Kaibara  was  discoursing  upon  Hooligans  rather  than 
upon  angels: 

"  Seeing  that   it   is  the   girl's   destiny   on   reaching 

womanhood  to  go  to  a  new  home,  and  live  in  submission 

to  her  father-in-law,  it  is  even  more  incumbent  on  her 

^Journal  of  the  Royal  Asiatic  Society  of  Great  Britain,  vol.x.  p.  iii. 

[103] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

than  it  is  on  a  boy  to  receive  with  all  reverence  her  par- 
ents' instructions.  Should  her  parents,  through  ex- 
cess of  tenderness,  allow  her  to  grow  up  self- 
willed,  she  will  infallibly  show  herself  capricious  in 
her  husband's  house,  and  thus  alienate  his  affection, 
while,  if  her  father-in-law  be  a  man  of  correct  principles, 
the  girl  will  find  the  yoke  of  these  principles  intolerable ; 
she  will  hate  and  decry  her  father-in-law,  and  the  end  of 
these  domestic  dissensions  will  be  her  dismissal  from  her 
husband's  house,  and  the  covering  of  herself  with  ig- 
nominy. Her  parents,  forgetting  the  faulty  education 
they  gave  her,  may  indeed  lay  all  the  blame  on  the 
father-in-law;  but  they  will  be  in  error;  for  the  whole 
disaster  should  be  rightly  attributed  to  the  faulty  edu- 
cation the  girl  received  from  her  parents. 

"  More  precious  in  a  woman  is  a  virtuous  heart  than 
a  face  of  beauty.  The  vicious  woman's  heart  is  ever  ex- 
cited; she  glares  wildly  around  her,  she  vents  her  anger 
on  others,  her  words  are  harsh  and  her  accents  vulgar. 
When  she  speaks  it  is  to  set  herself  above  others,  to  up- 
braid others,  to  envy  others,  to  be  puffed  up  with  in- 
dividual pride,  to  jeer  at  others,  to  outdo  others, — all 
things  at  variance  with  the  *  way  '  a  woman  should  walk. 
The  only  qualities  that  befit  a  woman  are  gentle  obedi- 
ence, chastity,  mercy,  and  quietness. 

"  From  her  earliest  youth  a  girl  should  observe  the 
line  of  demarcation  separating  women  from  men,  and 
never,  even  for  an  instant,  should  she  be  allowed  to  see 
or  hear  the  least  impropriety.  The  customs  of  antiquity 
did  not  allow  men  and  women  to  sit  in  the  same  apart- 

[104] 


O   JO    SAMA 

ment,  to  keep  their  wearing  apparel  in  the  same  place, 
to  bathe  in  the  same  place,  or  to  transmit  to  each  other 
anything  from  hand  to  hand.  A  woman  going  abroad 
at  night  must  in  all  cases  carry  a  lighted  lamp,  and 
(not  to  speak  of  strangers)  she  must  observe  a  certain 
distance  in  her  relations  even  with  her  husband  and  with 
her  brethren.  In  our  days,  the  women  of  the  lower 
classes,  ignoring  all  rules  of  this  nature,  behave  them- 
selves disorderly;  they  contaminate  their  reputation, 
bring  down  reproach  on  their  parents  and  brethren,  and 
spend  their  whole  lives  in  an  unprofitable  manner.  Is 
not  this  truly  lamentable?  It  is  written  likewise  in  the 
'  Lesser  Learning '  that  a  woman  must  form  no  friend- 
ship and  no  intimacy  except  when  ordered  to  do  so  by  her 
parents  or  the  '  middleman.'  Even  at  the  peril  of  her 
life  must  she  harden  her  heart  like  rock  or  metal,  and 
observe  the  rules  of  propriety." 

So  the  "  Onna  Daigaku  "  goes  on  for  many,  many 
pages,  which  Oji  San  expounded,  while  Aya  San  and 
Oka  San  crouched  before  him  on  their  shins,  their  tiny 
feet  crossed  under  them,  and  their  hands  straight  in 
front  of  them  resting  on  their  knees.  They  did  not  sit 
close  by  each  other  as  mother  and  daughter  might  in 
this  country.  Personal  contact  is  distasteful  to  Japa- 
nese, and  in  their  language  there  is  no  word  that  is  the 
equivalent  of  the  English  word  kiss,  though  Japanese 
dictionaries  have  borrowed  the  Chinese  word  "  seppun." 
Aya  San  never  kissed  her  mother,  nor  did  Oka  San  ever 
kiss  her  child  unless  when  Aya  was  a  tiny  babe  too  young 
to  have  a  mind  to  remember  with.  Certainly  the  child 

[105] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

never  kissed  her  father,  possibly  she  never  touched  him, 
for  nurses  carried  her  about  on  their  backs  when  she  was 
young  and  always  had  her  well  in  charge,  so  that  the 
samurai  never  had  occasion  to  be  mindful  of  her.  The 
little  she  saw  of  him  was  "  through  the  top  of  her  head," 
for  his  appearance  was  the  signal  for  profound  obeis- 
ance. When  he  came  to  the  room  where  her  mother  or 
the  nurses  kept  her  she  bent  herself  against  the  floor  like 
a  letter  Z  that  someone  had  pressed  down  almost  flat, 
and  dropped  her  face  into  the  backs  of  her  wee  dimpled 
hands,  so  that  should  her  august  sire's  honorable  glance 
deign  to  fall  in  her  direction  all  it  saw  was  a  bundle  of 
delicate  silks,  a  bare  spot  where  the  barber  had  shaved 
the  crown  of  her  head,  and  the  fine  black  fringe  of  the 
tonsure  round  it.  He  loved  her,  Japanese-father-fash- 
ion, but  it  would  have  been  undignified  to  display  emo- 
tion toward  her,  or  even  to  go  to  her  funeral  had  she 
died. 

Perhaps  there  was  a  yearning  in  Aya's  heart  that 
only  loving  arms  could  satisfy,  but  if  there  was  she  did 
not  understand  it.  She  could  not  miss  what  she  had 
never  enjoyed.  If  conventions  shut  in  her  life  as  a  cage 
shuts  in  a  canary's,  she  did  not  know  that  the  condition 
was  not  normal.  Her  life  would  be  like  her  mother's 
life.  Why  not?  She  had  not  thought  about  it,  had  not 
expected  anything  different.  The  "  three  obediences  " 
would  be  all  there  could  be  in  it ;  first  to  her  parents,  then 
to  her  husband  and  to  his  parents;  and  should  she  be- 
come a  widow,  she  would  obey  her  eldest  son,  or  if  she 
were  without  a  son,  whoever  might  be  the  head  of  her 

[106] 


O    JO    SAMA 

husband's  family.  "  Why  not?  "  again,  for  ever  since 
there  have  been  Japanese  women  it  has  been  their  busi- 
ness to  obey. 

Oka  San  had  lived  up  to  this  teaching  faithfully,  and 
now  that  Dana  San  (Master),  her  husband,  was  dead, 
and  his  relatives  were  far  away,  Oji  San,  though  inkiyo, 
ruled  the  household.  His  body,  that  of  a  warrior  once, 
had  long  ceased  to  be  erect,  but  his  mind  was  as  bright  as 
ever,  and  as  he  read  aloud  the  passages  from  the  "  Whole 
Duty "  his  face  behind  his  huge  tortoiseshell-rimmed 
glasses  was  as  wise  as  an  owl's.  The  contrast  between  his 
words,  squeezed  out  with  an  intonation  quite  in  harmony 
with  the  text,  and  the  appearance  of  his  listeners,  was 
both  ludicrous  and  sad. 

As  to  the  mother-in-law,  indeed  she  was  an  element 
to  consider  in  the  matrimonial  equation  in  the  days  when 
Kaibara  wrote — a  quantity  partly  known  and  partty  un- 
known, but  with  undoubted  abilities  for  making  trouble. 
Had  there  been  newspapers,  then  the  paragrapher  would 
have  found  her  fully  as  useful  as  she  is  to-day,  but  it 
would  have  been  Mrs.  Youngwife  instead  of  Mr.  Young- 
husband — a  heroine  rather  than  a  hero  in  the  tragedy. 

If  Oji  San's  words  are  true,  the  women  before  him, 
one  so  young  and  one  past  middle  life,  must  be  mis- 
tresses of  the  art  of  dissembling.  To  look  less  vicious 
would  be  impossible.  One  refuses  to  believe  that  they 
could  "  glare  wildly  round  "  even  should  they  try.  Oji 
San  is  surely  wasting  words  upon  them.  But  he  means 
well,  and  they  are  so  submissive. 

"  It  shall  be  your  duty  when  you  go  to  your  hus- 
[107] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

band's  house,  Aya  San,"  said  the  old  man,  "  to  rever- 
ence your  father-in-law,  and  to  obey  him  and  your 
mother-in-law  in  all  things  as  you  have  obeyed  your 
own  parents.  Filial  piety  is  the  chief  duty  of  a  girl. 
You  must  give  yourself  up  to  their  direction.  It  is  well 
you  have  learned  to  boil  rice  properly,  and  to  speak  to 
your  superiors  always  with  your  face  to  the  floor,  and  to 
control  that  harshness  natural  to  a  woman's  voice  which, 
alas,  is  the  cause  of  so  much  domestic  infelicity.  Your 
mother-in-law  would  send  you  back  to  us  instantly  if 
you  served  saggy  rice  or  rice  hard  from  insufficient  boil- 
ing. That  is  a  most  just  cause  for  divorce.  Be  ever 
mindful  lest  you  bring  infinite  disgrace  upon  yourself 
and  upon  this  house  by  inattentiveness  to  rice.  Dis- 
obedience also  will  cause  you  to  come  back  to  us  cov- 
ered with  ignominy;  and  in  speech  be  careful  every  in- 
stant of  your  existence,  for  here  is  the  truth  as  I  will 
read  it  to  you — the  sixth  reason  for  just  divorce.  '  A 
woman  shall  be  divorced,'  says  the  sage  Kaibara,  '  who 
by  talking  over  much  and  prattling  disrespectfully  dis- 
turbs the  harmony  of  kinsmen,  and  brings  trouble  on 
her  household.'  Remember,  too,  that  a  woman  once 
married  and  then  divorced  has  wandered  from  the  '  way,' 
and  is  covered  with  the  greatest  shame,  even  if  she  should 
enter  into  a  second  union  with  a  man  of  wealth  and 
position." 

Surely  Japan  is  severe  with  the  girl  who  is  not  "  up  " 
on  rice.  Imagine  American  custom  demanding  that  the 
young  wife  who  does  not  bake  properly  should  go  back 
to  her  parents'  house  with  a  character  as  black  as  the 

[108] 


O    JO    SAMA 

bottoms  of  her  first  loaves,  and  a  heart  as  heavy  as  their 
insides ! 

"But  how  about  the  husband?"  someone  may  ask. 
"  Where  does  he  come  in  ?  What  is  there  that  he  must 
do  or  must  not  do  ?  "  That  is  hard  to  say.  The  answer 
seemingly  is,  "  Nothing."  At  least  there  is  no  "  Otoko 
Daigaku,"  or  "  Whole  Duty  of  Man."  It  is  a  pity. 
Japanese  women  should  have  an  opportunity  to  write 
one,  but  to  let  them  would  be  indelicate,  and  if  they  had 
opportunity  they  would  not  think  of  doing  anything  so 
impolite.  If  men  wrote  one — but  they  have  no  chivalry. 

Aya  San  bowed  low  as  Oji  San  closed  his  book  at  the 
end  of  each  reading,  and  ejaculated:  "Honorable 
Grandfather,  your'  august  words  are  honorable  truth." 
Then  she  would  pour  hot  water  into  the  tiny  teapot  from 
the  kettle  on  the  coals,  and  give  Honorable  Grandfather 
a  tall  blue  cupful  of  a  mild  beverage  very  different  from 
the  dark  concoction  one  drinks  in  America  or  England. 

After  Honorable  Grandfather,  Bo  Chan,  the  baby 
brother,  next  needed  her  attention,  and  then  there  were 
her  studies,  for  Aya  San  was  ambitious.  The  spirit  of 
New  Japan  was  in  the  air,  she  breathed  it  in,  and  wished 
to  learn  something  in  the  new  schools  the  Government 
was  establishing.  This  was  hard  to  manage,  for  schools 
take  time  and  money ;  riot  more  than  twenty-five  cents  a 
month,  perhaps,  but  one  "  quarter  "  out  of  every  eight 
when  there  are  four  mouths  to  feed!  No,  it  would  not 
do.  So  she  worked  at  her  books  at  home.  They  were 
old  books  which  she  had  borrowed  from  those  of  her  girl 
friends  who  could  go  to  school.  Dog-eared  and  tattered 

[109] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

they  were,  when  Aya's  friends  had  done  with  them  and 
gone  on  to  more  advanced  ones,  but  they  were  treasures 
to  the  little  housekeeper;  she  studied  them  at  nights, 
sometimes  when  she  had  only  fireflies  in  a  cage  to  see  by. 

One  day  a  missionary  from  Tokio  out  "  prospecting  " 
stopped  at  the  low  thatched  cottage  of  three  rooms  in 
which  Aya  lived,  to  ask  some  question  as  to  the  road  he 
was  upon,  and  heard  Oji  San's  sepulchral  wheeze  as  he 
read: 

"  '  Let  her  never  dream  of  jealousy.  If  her  husband 
be  dissolute  she  must  expostulate  with  him,  but  never 
either  nurse  or  vent  her  anger.  If  her  jealousy  be  ex- 
treme it  will  render  her  countenance  frightful,  and  her 
accents  repulsive,  and  can  only  result  in  alienating  her 
husband  completely  from  her  and  making  her  intolerable 
in  his  eyes.  Should  her  husband  act  ill  and  unreason- 
ably, she  must  compose  her  countenance  and  soften  her 
voice  to  remonstrate  with  him,  and  if  he  be  angry  and 
listen  not  to  the  remonstrance,  she  must  wait  over  a 
season  and  then  expostulate  with  him  again  when  his 
heart  is  softened.  Never  set  thyself  up  against  thy 
husband  with  harsh  features  and  a  boisterous  voice ! ' : 

"  That  is  rather  more  of  meekness,  I  fear,  than  we 
Christians  are  wont  to  expect,"  said  the  missionary  to 
himself ;  "  but  after  ten  years  here  I  have  come  to  be- 
lieve that  our  Japanese  sisters,  heathen  though  they  may 
be,  have  achieved  it.  I  have  learned  something  from 
them."  Oji  San  continued: 

"  '  A  woman  should  be  circumspect  and  sparing  in  her 
use  of  words,  and  never,  even  for  a  passing  moment, 

[110] 


O    JO    SAMA 

should  she  slander  others  or  be  guilty  of  untruthfulness. 
Should  she  ever  hear  calumny  she  should  keep  it  to  her- 
self and  repeat  it  to  none,  for  it  is  the  relating  of  cal- 
umny that  disturbs  the  harmony  of  kinsmen  and  ruins 
the  peace  of  families.' ' 

"  Next  to  the  gospel  that  is  the  truth  itself,"  agreed 
the  missionary ;  "  but  why  should  it  be  '  for  women 
only  '  ?  "  and  raising  his  voice  he  cried  : 

"  Gomen  na  sai !  "  (  "  August  pardon  deign  "  ) .  In  a 
moment  the  "  shoji  "  (the  sliding  paper  door),  opened, 
and  Aya's  pretty  face  appeared.  The  missionary  made 
excuses  for  disturbing  the  august  household,  and  then 
asked  about  the  road.  She  replied  sweetly  and  begged 
him  to  take  a  cup  of  tea,  "  most  good  for  honorable 
weariness."  Over  the  tea  he  asked  more  questions,  and 
talked  so  long  that  he  had  to  hasten  back  to  Tokio  when 
he  left,  lest  he  should  miss  his  evening  service. 

A  few  days  later  he  was  out  again,  with  an  offer  in 
writing  from  his  mission  to  take  Aya  San  into  the  mis- 
sion school  and  give  her  an  education  free  of  all  cost  for 
board  and  tuition.  Household  duties,  however,  said 
"  no  "  to  this,  though  to  the  young  girl  the  offer  was  as 
an  invitation  to  enter  the  gates  of  the  Blessed  Country. 

The  man  of  God  was  sorry,  but  a  month  afterwards 
he  established  a  station  near  Aya's  home  and  saw  her 
frequently.  He  lent  her  books,  and  under  his  direction 
her  progress  was  extraordinary.  The  dog-eared  volumes 
she  had  begun  with  were  years  behind  her  now.  Twelve 
months  later,  after  a  public  examination,  she  received  a 
teacher's  certificate  from  the  Government,  and  that 

[111] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

household's  puny  income  doubled.  She  had  fallen  in 
love,  too,  and  so  had  the  missionary,  but  the  romance 
ended  soon.  Both  were  eager  to  marry,  but  the  samurai, 
Aya's  father,  had  promised  her  to  a  friend's  son.  She 
had  been  engaged  since  she  was  two  years  old  to  a  person 
she  had  never  seen.  The  one  who  made  the  engagement 
had  long  since  passed  beyond,  yet  the  engagement  held. 

But  for  the  dead  man's  hand  Aya  might  be  among 
the  new  women  of  her  land  to-day.  She  did  not  stand 
still,  however,  for  she  is  now  somewhere  between  the  old 
and  the  new ;  she  has  not  shaved  her  eyebrows  nor  stained 
her  teeth,  though  her  husband  is  her  law  and  her  life. 
If  there  are  other  men  in  the  world  she  does  not  know  it. 

Of  the  girls  who  lent  her  those  old  books,  some  are 
teachers  in  Normal  schools  and  colleges,  some  have 
charge  of  kindergartens,  some  are  governesses,  some  are 
nurses  in  hospitals,  and  a  few  are  wives  of  officials,  and 
give  balls  and  receptions  after  the  European  fashion, 
and  wear  European  clothes,  arrange  their  hair  without 
the  use  of  the  perfumed  cocoanut-oil  paste  of  former 
days.  They  have  long  lists  of  male  acquaintances,  not 
one  of  whom  is  their  husband,  play  the  violin  and  piano, 
ride  bicycles,  play  tennis,  win  prizes  in  archery,  talk  over 
telephones,  and  actually  precede  the  men  when  entering 
a  room. 


[112] 


CHAPTER    THIRTEEN 

HAPPY  NEW  YEAR 

JAPAN  is  the  j oiliest  country  in  the  world  at  the 
New  Year.  Gardner  and  I  found  it  three  times 
jolly,  in  fact.  Each  January  1,  43,000,000  sub- 
jects in  the  Land  of  the  Rising  Sun  begin  to  paint  not 
a  mere  "  town,"  as  a  band  of  cowboys  might,  but  the 
whole  of  the  Mikado's  Empire.  The  color  is  naturally 
the  glorious  roseate  hue  of  the  Imperial  emblem — The 
Rising  Sun.  This  deep  red  harmony,  they  say,  is 
eminently  fitting  at  the  beginning  of  the  year ;  and  that 
the  painting  may  be  well  done,  they  administer  three 
distinct  and  separate  coats  right  lavishly. 

The  bottom  or  foundation  coat  is  two  full  weeks  in 
putting  on.  Joy  flows  in  streams  along  the  thorough- 
fares, swelled  by  rivulets  from  every  house.  All  the 
city  folk  call  on  each  other ;  all  the  country  folk  come  in 
to  help  them  do  it ;  and  everybody  gives  everybody  pres- 
ents. This  may  be  called  the  official  New  Year.  It  dates 
only  from  1870,  when  the  Japanese  Government  changed 
its  calendar  to  conform  to  that  of  the  rest  of  the  world. 
On  the  1st  of  February  there  is  a  second  coating — this 
is  the  New  Year  of  Old  Japan,  still  dear  to  the  rural 
heart.  All  the  country  folk  call  on  one  another  then, 
and  many  of  the  city  folk  go  out  to  help  them.  There 
is  less  formality  about  this  celebration,  less  eclat,  but 

[113] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

good-fellowships  abounds,  and  joy  is  rampant  for  a 
week. 

The  third  coating  is  given  in  good  old  Chinese  style. 
Its  date  depends  on  the  moon,  as  does  our  Easter  festival. 
Each  household  celebrates  by  itself  in  part,  and  in  part 
with  outside  friends;  but  this  feast  is  more  domestic, 
though  not  less  sacredly  observed  than  the  two  preced- 
ing. 

The  New  Year  season  is  the  time  to  see  Japan  socially 
at  its  best.  It  is  true  there  are  no  "  kiku,"  as  they  call 
crysanthemums,  nor  plum  nor  cherry  blossoms.  The 
kiku  comes  in  the  autumn  and  the  "  sakura "  (or 
cherry),  and  the  "  ume "  (the  plum)  in  April,  both 
seasons  when  all  outdoors  is  a  garden-party,  and  ex- 
quisitely picturesque,  but,  with  all  its  loveliness,  it  is  only 
the  outside  one  sees  then. 

To  look  into  the  homes  and  the  hearts  of  all  Japan 
one  must  be  there  New  Year's  Day.  Business  generally 
is  suspended,  both  private  and  public.  Doors  open  wide 
then,  and  hospitality,  such  as  is  unknown  in  Europe  or 
America,  is  the  rule  without  exception. 

The  jin-riki-sha  coolie  is  the  only  one  that  works,  but 
his  task  hardly  is  irksome.  Waiting  while  his  fare  makes 
a  call,  he  feasts  in  the  kitchen  with  the  cook,  so  that 
when  night  comes,  though  his  load  is  rather  heavy  prob- 
ably, he  does  not  complain. 

The  geisha  has  her  busiest  season  at  New  Year,  but 
her  work  is  always  play,  and  she  enjoys  it  quite  as  much 
as  those  whom  she  entertains.  Her  plaintive  love-songs 
are  never  sung  more  sweetly  than  at  the  beginning  of  the 


HAPPY    NEW    YEAR 

year,  when  the  heart  of  the  nation  warms  anew.  The 
geisha  is  very  near  that  heart,  and  chirrups  sympa- 
thetically. 

At  the  first  of  the  year  the  Emperor  and  the  Em- 
press receive  for  three  days.  On  the  first  day  only  those 
of  royal  blood,  the  highest  officers  of  State,  and  for- 
eign diplomats,  make  their  bows.  Then  follow  in  turn 
personages  of  lower  degree,  down  to  those  who,  having 
some  title  to  recognition,  are  honored  with  a  gracious 
notification  of  the  reception  at  the  palace,  but  are  ex- 
pected not  to  come. 

The  Princes  Royal  and  their  consorts,  after  paying 
their  respects  to  the  Throne  and  to  each  other,  in  due 
order,  according  to  degree  of  kinship  to  the  Mikado, 
receive  in  their  turn  in  petty  state.  The  Ministers  of 
State,  diplomats,  Members  of  Parliament,  distinguished 
folk,  and  any  foreigners  who  may  wish  to  do  so,  pay 
their  respects.  These  receptions  are  extremely  formal, 
and  everyone  connected  with  them  is  glad  they  continue 
only  three  days. 

The  grand  folk  on  the  fourth  day  join  the  crowd,  and, 
like  them,  go  hither  and  thither  to  every  accessible  ac- 
quaintance, as  ordinary  people  have  been  doing  from  the 
early  morning  of  "  Ganjitsu  "  (New  Year's  Day).  Of 
course,  no  one  can  call  on  every  individual  of  his  ac- 
quaintance in  the  Empire,  so  he  resorts  to  postal  cards, 
which  he  despatches  to  all  those  friends  whom  he  is  un- 
able to  see  personally. 

He  begins  each  card  as  follows,  despite  the  fact  that 
in  many  cases  he  knows  nothing  of  the  honorable  health, 

[115] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

or  of  the  weather,  or  of  other  conditions  at  the  homes  of 
those  whom  he  is  addressing : 

"  With  the  rigorous  inclemency  of  the  weather  so  in- 
creasing, I  have  the  honor  to  rejoice  at  your  august 
robustness.  What  I  have  to  say  is,  august  consideration 
honorably  vouchsafed  during  past  year,  most  humbly, 
most  gratefully  acknowledged,  deign  to  continue  the 
same  and  to  pardon  the  contemptible  selfishness  of 
selfish  me,  for  the  unspeakable  effrontery  of  venturing 
to  address  honorable  you. 

"  YOUR  LITTLE  IMBECILE  -    — ." 

This  writing  entails  no  little  labor,  for  there  is  no 
typewriter  for  the  Chinese  characters  which  the  Japanese 
use  in  correspondence.  The  pen-,  or  rather  the  brush- 
strokes, are  by  hand,  sometimes  forty  of  them  in  a  single 
name.  No  wonder  that  in  January  some  wrists  are  tired. 

The  calls,  too,  have  their  little  peculiarities,  for  it  is 
the  callee,  not  the  caller,  who  is  the  principal  recipient 
of  favors.  With  each  call  the  caller  presents  a  gift, 
usually  some  sort  of  food;  but  anything  will  do,  even 
money.  Boxes  of  eggs  are  in  demand ;  so  is  "  kasutera," 
or  sponge  cake.  Kasutera  is  from  the  Dutch  word 
"Casteel"  (Castile),  for  Spanish  bread.  The  Dutch 
at  Nagasaki  in  1600  first  taught  the  Japanese  the  art 
of  making  that  dainty.  Wine,  beer,  all  sorts  of  canned 
goods,  and  articles  of  apparel  are  distributed  too.  It  is 
a  great  season  for  the  brewer,  the  baker,  the  confec- 
tioner, the  distiller,  and  the  hens. 


HAPPY    NEW    YEAR 

As  presents  come  in  such  profusion,  they  would  ac- 
cumulate beyond  control  were  it  not  for  the  custom  of 
"  passing  along."  It  is  not  at  all  necessary  that  madam 
should  eat  all  the  eggs  that  are  given  her.  That  would 
be  difficult,  and  to  keep  them  long  about  the  house  would 
not  be  pleasant;  so  after  reserving  whatever  she  chooses, 
she  puts  her  card  in  each  of  the  remaining  boxes,  and 
when  her  lord  comes  in  for  the  fresh  supply  of  gifts 
which  he  needs  in  order  to  continue  his  round  of  calls, 
she  hands  them  to  him. 

Thus  replenished,  he  starts  out  again,  and  madam  at 
home  gathers  in  a  further  collection.  This  keeps  up  for 
a  fortnight,  during  which  the  kasutera  and  the  eggs  do 
not  grow  fresher.  The  dealers  who  supply  these  com- 
modities, however,  provide  against  damage  to  their 
reputations  by  pasting  in  the  box  of  cake  or  eggs  some- 
thing to  this  effect:  "  This  cake  was  baked  at  11  p.  M., 
December  31.  These  eggs  were  laid  at  2  A.  M.,  January 
1,  *  kotoshi '  (this  year)." 

As  these  presents  are  passing  along  they  often  com- 
plete the  circuit  and  arrive  at  the  place  whence  they 
were  first  sent  out,  but  it  is  only  to  begin  the  tour  again. 
There  is  no  rest  for  a  Japanese  New  Year's  gift  until 
it  is  eaten  or  drunk  or  lost. 

All  one's  tradespeople  will  call,  too,  bearing  samples 
of  their  wares,  commensurate  with  the  amount  of  patron- 
age each  dealer  has  received.  They  present  these 
samples  with  many  bows  and  a  request  for  a  continu- 
ance of  their  patron's  august  condescension  during  the 
ensuing  year. 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

While  the  shops  are  closed  to  business  they  are  open 
for  pleasure,  and  there  is  a  banquet  in  each  home  from 
early  morning  until  early  morning  every  day  of  the  two 
weeks.  And  the  tradesman  hopes  that  all  those  who  have 
honored  the  shop  with  their  patronage  will  call  and 
bring  their  friends. 

Foreigners  seem  to  be  particularly  welcome  at  this 
time,  especially  English  and  Americans,  for  the  com- 
mon people  like  English-speaking  folk.  A  man  from 
England  or  America  might  begin  to  feast  early  New 
Year's  Day,  and  continue  feasting  until  January  15th,  if 
he  could  endure  it,  even  among  strangers.  The  shop- 
keepers would  show  him  more  genuine  hospitality  than 
his  own  cousins  would  at  home. 

As  there  is  plum-pudding  at  Christmas  in  England, 
and  turkey  for  Thanksgiving  in  America,  so  there  is 
"  mochi  "  and  "  shirozaki  "  for  the  New  Year  in  Japan. 
Mochi  is  good,  and  so  is  shirozaki.  Mochi  is  made  of 
rice  boiled  in  fresh  water  and  pounded  in  a  mortar  until 
it  is  dough,  then  it  is  rolled  out  like  a  yard  of  baker's 
bread,  cut  in  slices  and  laid  to  dry  till  a  slight  crust 
forms,  when  it  is  ready  to  toast.  Often  boiled  beans  are 
worked  into  the  dough,  till  the  casual  globe-trotter  might 
mistake  it  for  peanut  candy. 

Shirozaki  is  white  and  thick,  quite  different  from  the 
thin  pale  sheny  color  of  ordinary  sake.  It  is  sweet  and 
wholesome,  made  of  rice,  with  the  body  of  the  fermented 
grain  left  in. 

The  country  folk  repeat  these  grand  two  weeks  of 
celebration  a  month  later,  for  they  are  slow  to  adopt  new 

[118] 


HAPPY    NEW    YEAR 

customs,  though  they  enjoy  the  official  New  Year  in 
town  hugely,  if  they  have  opportunity  to  go.  City  folk, 
especially  those  who  long  for  the  good  old  days,  are 
sure  to  be  with  their  cousins  in  the  country  for  the  second 
feasting,  and  to  stay  a  week  at  least  with  them.  Then, 
when  the  moon  changes,  comes  the  oldest  feast  of  all, 
and  the  country  quiets  down  until  another  year  is  born. 
This  Far  East  custom  of  New  Year  calls,  once  so 
prevalent  in  England  and  in  America,  was  brought  to 
Europe  by  the  Dutch  merchantmen,  it  is  said,  who 
traded  with  Japan  in  the  sixteenth  century  and  after. 
But  the  Western  world  has  been  growing  busier  year  by 
year,  and  finds  hardly  time  nowadays  for  so  much 
merry-making. 


[119] 


CHAPTER   FOURTEEN 

THOSE  WHO  SIGN  CHITS 

CERTAIN  moneys  Gardner  had   expected  to  col- 
lect when  he  ran  down  to  Yokohama  were  not 
immediately  in  evidence,  and  we  therefore  had 
recourse  to  "  chits." 

"  Deuced  convenient  things,  you  know,"  a  globe-trot- 
ter remarked  to  us  of  chits;  and  he  was  right.  Too 
convenient,  if  anything.  Take,  for  instance,  the  man 
with  a  thirst  and  no  money.  He  will  find  the  Japanese 
seaport  a  joyous  place.  The  combination  so  trying 
abroad  is  of  little  inconvenience  in  those  hospitable 
abodes ;  and,  besides,  those  petty  annoyances  incident  to 
having  money  always  in  one's  pocket  are  done  away  with. 
There  you  are  always  "  good  for  a  drink,"  or  any- 
thing else.  If  you  do  not  look  too  much  like  a  sailor — 
a  "  Damyoureyes  San,"  as  the  natives  say — and  are  able 
to  write  your  name,  you  need  not  worry.  The  secret  of 
all  this  is  chits.  "  Chits,"  being  interpreted,  means  "  joy 
made  easy," — joy  and  other  things.  They  are  one  of 
the  pleasantest  curses  known  to  man.  Great  and  wicked 
was  the  brain  that  invented  them.  The  owner  of  that 
brain  is  already  responsible  for  hundreds  of  merry-mak- 
ing wrecks,  who  with  all  too  much  facility  have  drunk 
themselves  to  death  on  his  ingenious  plan.  He  has  been 
their  evil  genius,  but  what  he  did  was  consummated  with 

[120] 


THOSE    WHO    SIGN    CHITS 

a  liberality  of  manner  that  robbed  death  of  half  its  sting. 
Public  opinion  in  the  seaports  is  not  pronounced 
enough  to  emphasize  the  line  between  the  use  and  the 
abuse  of  chits.  Among  old  residents  there  is  opinion 
against  the  abuse,  of  course,  but  there  are  so  many 
"  transients  "  with  homes  that  are  far,  far  away.  Among 
these,  in  a  large  measure,  restraint  is  ineffectual,  and  so 
it  happens  that  men,  particularly  young  men,  do  feel 
freer  than  is  safe.  They  are  a  genial  lot,  fond  of  out- 
door life,  well  traveled  generally,  and  well  read,  with 
charming  manners,  and  hospitable,  with  a  frank  gener- 
osity that  wins  at  once.  They  have  leisure  beyond  the 
dreams  of  toilers  in  the  West.  They  work  harder  now, 
perhaps,  than  formerly,  those  of  them  with  occupation, 
but  their  custom  was  to  come  down  to  work  at  10  A.  M., 
and  to  quit  usually  by  four.  Out  of  these  six  hours  one 
and  a  half  were  spent  at  the  clubs  or  in  the  great  hotels, 
where  chit-signing  is  indulged  in  as  a  liberal  art.  In 
the  races  twice  a  year  they  rode  their  own  horses,  and  out 
of  respect  to  the  turf,  when  the  races  were  on,  all  busi- 
ness, even  banking,  was  at  a  standstill.  Wine  flowed  as 
fast  as  the  laws  of  gravity  allowed,  but  there  was  little 
cash  in  sight.  The  boys  who  served  the  drinks  did  not 
handle  money.  They  pushed  the  bottle  and  a  scratch- 
pad towards  you,  and  someone  signed.  The  chit  then 
went  to  some  hotel. 

When  a  few  months  later  you  wished  to  pay,  you 
would  have  some  trouble  in  finding  the  slip  to  which  you 
had  put  your  name.  Going  from  one  place  to  another, 
at  each  the  manager  would  say: 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

"  I  don't  know.  They  may  be  here.  If  I  find  them 
I'll  send  them  up  to  you.  Let's  see;  what  is  your  ad- 
dress ?  " 

If  you  were  sure  he  had  them,  you  might  pay  and  he 
would  credit  you.  Then  you  owned  the  place.  What- 
ever you  bought  thereafter  he  might  not  charge  against 
you,  but  would  say,  "  That  goes  to  square  us  for  what 
you  paid  against  the  chits  I  never  found." 

It  is  only  globe-trotters  that  carry  much  cash  in  their 
pockets  in  Yokohama,  and  they  soon  give  up  carrying  it, 
just  as  they  give  up  eating  rice-curry  with  a  fork.  Rail- 
way people  and  beggars  are  the  only  people  who  don't 
take  chits,  but  the  railroad,  though  convenient,  is  not 
necessary,  and  if  one  believes  in  the  doctrine  similia 
simUibus  curantur,  he  can  pass  beggars  by  also,  and 
never  know  the  touch  of  filthy  lucre. 

If  you  offer  money  to  the  barber,  he  may  say,  "  Oh, 
wait  till  the  end  of  the  month.  We  can't  bother  making 
up  cash  now.  Sign  a  chit." 

At  the  tailor's  you  are  asked,  "  Shall  I  send  the  goods 
to  the  club  or  to  your  hotel?  "  If  you  ask  about  pay- 
ment, the  reply  is,  "  Oh,  we'll  send  you  a  memorandum 
now  and  then,  to  let  you  know  how  you  stand  with  us. 
But  that  is  not  a  bill,  you  know.  Just  let  that  run  to 
your  convenience,  please.  Send  a  chit  when  you  like." 

The  jin-riki-sha  man  takes  a  chit  from  the  hotel  to 
which  he  has  delivered  you,  or  the  hotel  pays  and  you 
sign  a  chit.  Every  public-house  in  town  passes  out  the 
little  pad  with  the  pencil  hanging  from  one  corner. 
Lodgings,  meals,  everything  an  hotel  has  to  rent  or  to 

[in] 


THOSE    WHO    SIGN    CHITS 

sell  to  its  guests,  may  be  signed  for  on  the  chit.  Nor 
is  there  anything  that  Satan  can  furnish  to  promote 
delirium  or  to  coax  the  coming  of  old  age  that  a  little 
chit  will  not  arrange  for. 

He  who  has  looked  on  the  wine  when  it  is  red,  and  has 
studied  the  mockery  of  strong  drink,  need  not  moan  in 
his  first  waking  thoughts  with  despair,  brought  on  by 
the  recollection  that  his  last  penny  went  the  night  before, 
unless,  alas!  he  is  too  shaky  to  hold  the  little  pencil. 
But  even  then  a  promise  to  sign  later  will  bring  him 
what  he  needs ! 

There  are  settling  days,  of  course,  when  the  residents 
arm  themselves  with  courage  and  go  forth  to  pay  their 
chits.  Some  men  do  this  every  two  years.  Others,  who 
consider  themselves  patterns  of  regularity,  square  up 
bravely  each  1st  of  January.  Then  there  are  men  who 
have  the  names  of  the  places  where  their  chits  are  held 
arranged  in  groups,  and  each  group  assigned  to  a  par- 
ticular month  of  the  year.  At  the  first  of  each  month 
they  settle  a  part  of  their  debts.  This  system  sometimes 
gives  chit-holders  opportunity  for  guessing,  though; 
for  readjustments  in  the  scheme  of  grouping  one's  chits 
will  occur  with  even  the  best-intentioned  signers,  so  that 
a  holder  who  thought  his  money  would  come  in  January 
may  find  himself  mysteriously  moved  into  the  December 
class,  but  that  does  not  matter  much. 

Besides  these  annuals,  bi-annuals,  and  monthlies,  there 
is  a  class  made  up,  it  is  said,  of  those  who  do  not  pay 
until  they  die.  These  men  have  life  insurance  policies, 
or  assurance  policies,  to  speak  with  local  accuracy,  and, 

[  123] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

being  thus  assured,  they  do  not  bother  who  holds  their 
chits,  or  whether  the  chits  were  signed  ten  days  or  ten 
years  ago.  There  are  few  men,  however,  who  have 
signed  chits  steadily  for  ten  years.  Three  years  is  gen- 
erally the  limit.  A  man  can  sign  a  barrelf  ul  in  that  time 
— a  barrelful  that  stands  for  many  other  barrels  empty. 
When  the  assured  man  dies,  his  chits  appear,  and 
straightway  are  paid,  the  first  money  collected  from  the 
policy  going  for  this. 

The  number  of  chits  not  paid  is  large  considered  by 
itself ,  though  relatively  small.  It  is  this  fact  that  is  the 
penniless  man's  advantage.  He  lives  on  the  fringe  or 
ragged  edge  of  the  crazy  quilt  of  chits  until  he  "  loses 
his  face,"  or  drinks  himself  into  the  hereafter.  When 
his  "  face  "  is  gone  he  may  sign  no  longer.  He  drifts 
into  the  Consul's  hands,  and  is  sent  home  steerage  at  his 
Government's  expense.  He  may  so  dread  the  thought  of 
home  that  he  flies  to  the  natives,  among  the  disreputable 
of  whom  he  must  have  some  acquaintance,  and  in  return 
for  a  modicum  of  seaweeds,  fish,  and  rice-beer,  teaches 
Peter  Parley's  "  History  of  the  World,"  or  possibly  the 
art  of  mixing  cocktails. 

When  he  dies,  the  chances  are  that  the  foreign  resi- 
dents will  subscribe  to  bury  him  decently,  and  others  of 
•  his  class  will  mourn  for  him,  hoping  that  some  day  some- 
one will  do  the  same  for  them.  The  class  is  one,  how- 
ever, that  is  less  in  evidence  each  year. 

As  the  transient  population  of  Yokohama  increases, 
chit-signing  may  disappear,  although  the  habit  is  second 
nature  to  those  who  live  there  now.  Here  and  there  a 


THOSE    WHO    SIGN    CHITS 

man  rebels,  and  swears  that  he  will  never  sign  another 
chit,  but  a  temptation  that  is  ever  present  is  hard  to 
resist  for  long.  With  nothing  between  a  thirsty  man 
and  the  drink  he  longs  for  but  the  scrawling  of  his  name 
on  a  slip  of  paper,  the  chances  are  that  the  thirst  will 
win.  Other  things,  too,  he  may  crave  as  keenly,  things 
that  will  do  him  less  good  than  a  drink ;  the  fatal  paper 
makes  it  all  too  easy,  and  reform  difficult. 

"  So  they  sent  him  out  here  to  sober  up,  did  they  ?  " 
said  a  member  of  Parliament  who  was  at  tiffin  at  a  club 
in  one  of  the  treaty  ports  one  day,  and  was  speaking  to 
a  friend  of  a  youth  whose  parents  thought  Japan  would 
do  wonders  for  their  bright,  but  wayward,  child. 

"  Might  have  as  well  sent  him  to  Hades  to  cool  off." 


[125] 


CHAPTER    FIFTEEN 

THE  CENSOR  AND  THE  CRAFTY  EDITOR 

OKASHI  SAN  had  given  us  a  letter  to  a  Tokio 
friend,  the  editor  of  a  newspaper.    He  had  been 
to  Oxford,  and  to  Harvard  University  in  Amer- 
ica, and  we  were  eager  to  meet  him,  but  inquiries  at  the 
address  Okashi  had  given  us  were  singularly  unavail- 
ing.    After  much  searching  we  found  our  gentleman  in 
jail. 

When  I  learned  of  the  vicissitudes  of  his  profession, 
however,  I  wondered  how  he  had  kept  out  at  all.  It  was 
an  occupation  beset  with  difficulties  indeed.  Vexatious 
enough  in  all  countries,  in  the  Land  of  the  Rising  Sun  it 
has  been  so  uncertain  that  it  is  a  marvel  it  was  even  pos- 
sible. To  an  Englishman,  and  yet  more  to  an  American 
or  an  Australian,  such  uncertainty  would  be  intolerable. 
The  Japanese  editor,  like  Brer  Rabbit  in  "  Uncle  Re- 
mus," never  has  known  "  what  minnit's  going  to  be  the 
next." 

In  looking  into  the  business  I  found  that  since  the 
promulgation  of  the  Constitution  in  1889,  papers  had 
been  suspended  at  the  rate  of  one  a  week,  while  some  of 
the  more  outspoken  writers  had  grown  so  familiar  with 
the  way  to  the  "  honorable  jail "  that  it  was  said  they 
could  go  there  blindfolded. 

As  was  natural,  after  the  war  with  China,  the  Japanese 

[126] 


THE    CENSOR 

'did  some  little  talking  about  their  equality  to  Western- 
ers ;  but  on  the  other  hand,  in  the  matter  of  the  freedom 
of  the  press,  they  cannot  fail  to  see  that  they  are  years 
behind  the  times.  This  has  been  demonstrated  in  the 
trial  of  the  editors  of.  several  papers,  among  them  the 
Tokio  Shimbun,  for  criticising  the  Minister  of  the  Im- 
perial Household.  The  trial  aroused  public  opinion, 
and  Parliament  has  passed  laws  modifying  the  rigor  of 
press  censorship  to  some  extent.  Still,  to-day,  an 
editor  might  as  well  commit,  hara-kiri,  so  far  as  his  paper 
is  concerned,  as  to  give  a  line  of  army  or  of  navy  news, 
or  say  what  he  thinks  the  Government  should  do  to  hold 
back  Russian  aggression.  Even  in  papers  in  the  Eng- 
lish language,  which  are  published  in  the  seaports,  and 
are  owned  and  edited  almost  exclusively  by  Englishmen, 
writers  must  go  slowly.  Before  the  recent  treaties  came 
into  effect  they  did  not  fear  the  red  pencil  of  the  censor. 
Then  they  alone  dared  to  discuss  questions  of  state. 
Now,  however,  they  must  be  as  careful  as  the  editors  of 
papers  published  in  the  vernacular. 

The  list  of  "  don'ts,"  that  is,  the  list  of  things  a  writer 
on  a  paper  must  not  say,  is  long,  and,  worse  than  this, 
no  one  outside  the  Bureau  of  Press  Censorship  knows 
what  it  contains.  It  is  only  by  guessing  and  by  bitter 
experience  that  an  editor  can  approximate  as  to  what 
to  avoid.  If  a  paper  publishes  an  article  that  is  not 
approved  it  has  been  the  custom  to  suspend  the  paper, 
and  that  has  been  all  there  was  about  it.  No  reason  was 
given.  The  disapproved  article  was  not  even  mentioned 
in  the  order  of  suspension.  Small  wonder,  then,  that 

[127] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

there  has  been  great  discontent,  and  that  the  cry  for 
reform  grows  louder  every  day.  And  this  cry  is  not 
without  effect,  for  now  Government  promises  to  give 
editors  a  public  trial  when  there  has  been  transgression. 
Here  is  a  translation  by  Basil  Hall  Chamberlain  of 
what  the  editor  of  the  Nichi-Nichi-Shimbun  says  of  the 
tribulations  of  journalism  in  Dai  Nippon:  "News- 
papers and  magazines  are  confronted  by  a  special 
danger — the  danger,  namely,  of  suspension  when  their 
words  are  held  to  be  prejudicial  to  the  public  order;  and 
a  suspension,  too,  against  which  there  is  no  appeal. 
Article  xix.  of  the  Newspaper  Regulations  now  in  force 
says :  '  When  a  newspaper  has  printed  matter  which  is 
considered  prejudicial  to  public  order  or  subversive  of 
public  morality,  the  Minister  of  State  for  the  Interior 
is  empowered  to  suspend  its  publication  either  totally  or 
temporarily.'  Nor  is  there  a  word  said  in  the  regula- 
tions whereby  the  prejudicial  or  non-prejudicial  char- 
acter of  a  statement  or  argument  is  to  be  determined. 
It  is  sufficient  that  the  official  in  question  should  decide, 
in  accordance  with  his  own  individual  opinion,  that  the 
statement  or  argument  is  thus  prejudicial  to  public 
order,  for  a  newspaper  to  incur  at  any  moment  the  pen- 
alty of  suspension,  whether  total  or  temporary.  It  is 
indisputable  that  the  authorities  are  empowered  by  the 
law  of  the  land  to  act  thus.  The  Constitution  itself 
gives  them  this  power.  The  result  is  that  we  writers  are 
constantly  obliged,  in  taking  our  pen  in  hand,  to  keep 
to  ourselves  seven  or  eight  of  every  ten  opinions  we  would 
fain  express." 

[128] 


THE    CENSOR 

When  a  paper  ventures  too  far,  and  the  censor  is  called 
upon  to  write  the  order  of  suspension,  he  is  brief,  but 
polite — wonderfully  polite.  He  puts  the  honorific  "  O  " 
or  "  Go  "  before  each  of  the  nouns  and  verbs.  Prefixed 
to  a  noun  "  O  "  means  honorable,  to  a  verb  it  means  hon- 
orably ;  similarly  "  Go  "  means  august,  augustly.  So 
the  order,  when  it  arrives,  will  read  somewhat  as  follows : 

"  Deign  honorably  to  cease  honorably  publishing 
august  paper.  Honorable  editor,  honorable  publisher, 
honorable  chief  printer,  deign  honorably  to  enter  august 
jail." 

The  honorable  editor  with  his  honorable  co-workers 
bow  low  before  the  messenger  of  the  censor,  acknowledg- 
ing the  honor  of  the  august  notification,  and  then  accom- 
pany him  to  the  honorable  jail,  chatting  the  meanwhile 
of  the  weather,  or  of  the  flower  shows,  or  of  the  effects 
of  the  floods  on  the  rice  crop.  Centuries  of  breeding 
under  Japanese  etiquette  have  rendered  it  impossible  for 
them  to  show  annoyance.  They  do  not  know  how. 

When  a  paper  has  been  suspended,  the  first  intima- 
tion the  public  has  of  the  fact  is  the  quiet  in  the  compos- 
ing-room. Few  places  in  the  world  where  regular  busi- 
ness is  carried  on  are  noisier  than  a  Japanese  composing- 
room.  The  amount  of  noise  therein  is  determined  only 
by  the  cubic  capacity  of  the  apartment.  If  it  is  a  larger 
room,  there  is  more  noise ;  if  a  smaller,  there  is  less ;  but 
in  working  hours  it  is  always  chock-full.  The  con- 
fusion at  the  Tower  of  Babel  is  there  vividly  suggested 
every  day. 

For  the  ordinary  Tokio  paper  there  will  be  at  least 
[  129] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

twenty  men  and  boys  marching  to  and  fro,  each  yelling 
at  the  top  of  his  voice.  There  seems  neither  head  nor 
tail  to  this  confusion,  but  nevertheless  each  of  these 
screeching  persons  has  an  object  at  which  he  looks  in- 
tently while  he  parades  about.  This  object  is  a  line  or 
stick  of  Japanese  characters,  for  which  he  must  find  the 
appropriate  types.  It  is  something  of  a  job  to  find  all 
these,  for  to  print  even  a  four-page  paper  in  Japan  up- 
wards of  five  thousand  different  characters  are  used. 
These  require  many  fonts,  which  are  crowded  into  a 
small  space,  that  there  may  be  as  little  traveling  as 
possible. 

The  "  devil  "  goes  about  these  fonts  with  a  waltz- 
ing motion,  there  are  so  many  corners  to  turn,  and 
always  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  his  stick,  as  though  it  were 
a  sacred  relic.  Indeed,  to  the  stranger  in  the  street 
below  who  looks  up  through  the  long  windows  which 
reach  from  floor  to  ceiling,  it  might  seem  that  a  religious 
dance  was  going  on,  and  that  the  devotees  were  wrought 
well  up  to  the  frenzy  point. 

On  going  inside  one  finds  an  old  man  sitting  in  a 
corner  reading  copy,  and  cutting  it  into  strips  with  what 
looks  at  first  glance  like  a  pair  of  sugar-tongs,  but  which 
are  really  shears.  As  each  slip  falls,  a  "  devil "  grabs 
it  and  starts  off  on  his  pilgrimage,  singing  at  the  top 
of  his  voice  the  names  of  the  characters  he  seeks.  He 
has  to  pronounce  the  name  of  each  character  aloud  in 
order  to  know  what  it  is,  for  he  understands  by  hearing 
rather  than  by  seeing,  and  his  own  paper  would  be  un- 
intelligible to  him  unless  he  read  it  aloud.  As  all  the 

[130] 


THE    CENSOR 

other  imps  yell  also,  he  has  to  be  vociferous  in  order  to 
hear  himself. 

When  he  has  collected  the  types  for  all  the  characters 
on  his  slip  he  gives  them  to  the  head-compositor,  a 
learned  man  with  goggles,  who  puts  in  the  particles  and 
the  connecting  words,  and  hands  the  completed  form  to 
a  pair  of  proofreaders,  one  of  whom  sings  them  to  the 
other.  As  soon  as  the  proof  is  ready,  the  paper  is  made 
up,  all  hind-side  before,  it  would  seem  to  a  foreigner. 
The  reading  lines  are  perpendicular,  and  the  columns 
run  across  the  page  from  right  to  left,  the  first  column 
beginning  at  the  upper  right-hand  corner  of  what  in  a 
European  paper  would  be  the  last  page. 

There  are  no  headlines  nor  many  display  advertise- 
ments. The  paper  consists  generally  of  a  leading 
article,  a  lot  of  news  items — more  or  less  untrustworthy, 
a  jumble  of  advertisements  sometimes  printed  on  the 
margin  of  the  sheet,  and  a  section  of  a  continued  story. 
There  is  almost  no  telegraphic  news,  though  in  this  the 
papers  are  improving,  and  little  correspondence  either 
local  or  foreign.  There  is  also  improvement  in  these 
departments  now.  Occasionally  a  student  who  is  study- 
ing abroad  will  send  a  letter,  but  very  few  of  the  six- 
hundred-and-odd  papers  and  periodicals  now  published 
in  the  Empire  maintain  a  regular  correspondent  any- 
where, not  even  in  the  large  Japanese  cities. 

The  news  department  is  as  largely  "  fake  "  as  it  is  in 
any  of  the  issues  of  the  "  new  journalism  "  in  this  coun- 
try. That  it  is  fake  the  public  is  coming  to  recognize. 
As  an  example  of  this  recognition  one  of  the  achieve- 

[131] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

ments  of  a  particularly  yellow  journal  in  Tokio  may 
be  of  interest.  It  had  a  "  beat "  in  the  shape  of  an 
exclusive  notice  of  the  English-Japanese  alliance  six 
weeks  before  any  other  paper  in  the  Empire  had  a 
word  on  the  subject — which  was  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant subjects  a  newspaper  in  Japan  could  have  a 
"  beat  "  on.  But  no  one  paid  attention — there  was  not 
a  line  of  comment  in  other  papers  the  next  day,  nor  did 
the  public  pay  heed.  Even  in  Japan  it  is  possible  to  be 
too  yellow. 

But  it  is  the  leaders,  after  all,  that  make  one  wonder 
why  the  paper  is  published.  With  the  sharp  red  pencil 
of  the  censor  pointing  at  him,  ready  to  be  thrust  into  him 
behind  his  back  at  any  moment,  the  editor  has  evolved 
into  a  man  skilled  in  the  art  of  saying  nothing,  or,  at 
least,  what  reads  like  nothing  to  the  uninitiated.  He 
is  a  marvel  at  double  entendre.  But  with  all  his  clever- 
ness he  is  caught  so  often  that  he  has  become  inventive, 
and  has  devised  artifices  whereby  he  has  hoped  to  escape. 

The  most  successful  of  these  was  the  dummy  or 
"  prison  editor,"  as  he  was  known  in  the  Oriental  sanc- 
tum. This  functionary  had  an  easy  time.  He  had 
nothing  to  do  on  the  paper,  never  wrote  a  line,  but  when 
those  who  did  write  said  anything  that  the  censor  judged 
might  mean  something,  and  the  paper  was  suspended, 
the  prison  editor  stepped  forward,  bowed  low,  and  said, 
"  What  augustly  must  be,  probably  augustly  must  be." 
Then  he  trotted  off  to  august  jail.  This  scheme  worked 
well  for  a  long  time,  but  after  a  while  the  censor  de- 
manded that  the  principal  three  men  connected  with  the 

[132] 


THE    CENSOR 

paper  should  go  to  the  "  honorable  jail."  Three  dum- 
mies were  more  than  any  paper  could  afford  to  main- 
tain, and  so  there  are  no  proxies  now. 

The  remarkable  thing  about  the  majority  of  these 
papers,  however,  is  not  that  they  are  so  meager  in  every 
department,  but  that  they  exist.  Here  is  a  brief  sketch 
of  their  coming  into  being.  Their  birth  was  hardly 
under  lucky  stars.  The  first  Japanese  newspaper  was 
published  in  1872,  by  John  Black,  an  Englishman,  who 
founded  the  Nisshin  STiinji  Shi.  Before  that  there  had 
been  only  occasional  terror  sheets  which  the  "  yomi  uri  " 
(the  native  chapmen)  hawked  about  after  a  particularly 
bloody  murder  or  a  catastrophe,  such  as  a  great  fire,  a 
flood,  or  an  earthquake. 

Black's  paper  was  followed  by  others,  among  them 
the  Kwampo  or  official  Gazette;  the  Tokio  Shimpo  and 
the  Kokai,  semi-official;  the  Mai  Nichi  Shimbun,  the 
Yomi  Uri  Shimbun,  and  the  Ubin  Hochi  Shimbun,  all 
Liberal;  the  Jin  Shimbun  and  the  Ninkin  Shimbun, 
Radical ;  the  Nihon  and  the  Chusei  Nippo,  Conservative 
and  anti-foreign ;  the  Fuzdku  Gwaho,  an  interesting 
illustrated  record  of  manners  and  customs;  and  the 
Maru  Maru,  a  comic  paper  inspired  originally  by  Punch. 
There  are  also  prominent  the  Chuguai  Shiogio  Shimpo, 
a  commercial  daily ;  the  Jiji  Sin  Shimpo,  Imperial ;  the 
Tokio  Nichi-Nichi-Shimbun;  and  in  Osaka  the  Asahi 
(Morning  Sun),  and  the  Mainichi,  which  are  read  widely 
in  the  south  of  Japan.  Altogether  between  six  and 
seven  hundred  issue  from  the  press  at  more  or  less  regu- 
lar intervals,  and  as  a  rule  are  improving  in  quality. 

[133] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

The  Japanese  reporter  makes  about  as  much  money 
as  the  Japanese  policeman — that  is,  about  three  dollars 
a  month.  In  Tokio  some  of  them  make  more,  and  in  the 
smaller  towns  they  make  as  little  as  two  dollars  a  month, 
but  three  dollars  is  a  fair  average.  There  are  reporters 
that  make  far  more  than  this — say  thirty  dollars — but  so 
very  many  make  small  wages  that  the  average  is  low. 
They  are  not  sent  out  on  regular  assignments  as  a  rule, 
but  are  given  a  roving  commission.  The  editor  tells 
them  to  get  news,  real  news  if  there  is  any,  but  to  get 
news;  and  they  never  return  empty-handed.  A  good 
news-gatherer  is  rare  among  them,  but  the  "  fakir  "  is 
plentiful  enough  and  really  clever.  Interviewing  can 
hardly  be  said  to  be  popular.  The  people  do  not  under- 
stand it  and  do  not  like  it.  Japan  is  esoteric,  and 
doesn't  tell  what  it  knows  if  it  can  help  itself.  Still, 
there  are  interviews  in  Japanese  papers.  Politicians 
have  themselves  interviewed  occasionally,  and  "  globe- 
trotters "  usually  submit. 

Japanese  editors  are  gaining  in  power  now  that  the 
press  laws  show  a  tendency  to  become  less  restrictive, 
and  consequently  first-class  editorial  writers  make  what 
in  Japan  are  excellent  salaries,  despite  the  increased  ex- 
pense of  living  throughout  the  Empire.  One  editor  told 
me  that  as  much  as  four  and  even  five  hundred  yen  a 
month  went  into  the  envelopes  of  some  of  the  first-rate 
writers.  That  would  be  two  hundred  to  two  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  in  gold.  Another  thing  he  spoke  of 
was  that  Japan's  new  woman  was  learning  the  business, 
and  several  of  them  were  getting  on  well  as  essay  writers 

[134] 


THE    CENSOR 

on  subjects  connected  with  the  advancement  of  their 
sex. 

All  the  papers  use  the  written  language,  which  differs 
from  the  spoken  language  both  in  its  grammar  and  in 
its  vocabulary.  Mr.  Chamberlain  says  that  the  Jap- 
anese are  still  in  the  condition  of  Europeans  of  the 
twelfth  century :  "  They  do  not  write  as  they  speak. 
A  man  may  know  the  spoken  language  thoroughly,  and 
yet  not  be  able  to  understand  the  daily  paper  when  it 
is  read  aloud,  nor  even  the  note  he  has  just  asked  his 
native  clerk  in  his  office  to  write  and  to  send  up  to  the 
house,  announcing  that  he  will  take  up  a  friend  to 
« tiffin.'  " 

Speeches  are  taken  down  in  shorthand,  but  are  almost 
always  translated  into  the  written  language  before  they 
are  printed.  The  one  exception  to  the  rule  is  in  the 
Record  of  Parliament  speeches,  wherein  the  words  are 
published  just  as  they  were  uttered.  When  this  Record 
first  appeared  the  rural  members  were  filled  with  con- 
sternation, for  there  they  saw  held  up  to  the  public  eye 
all  their  peculiarities  of  provincial  dialect.  Old  men  as 
some  of  them  were,  they  got  themselves  teachers  and  set 
about  learning  to  speak  like  townsfolk. 

This  Record  is  the  beginning  of  a  tremendous  reform 
which  students  hope  will  lead  to  the  disuse  of  the  written 
language,  first  in  newspapers,  and  finally  in  books  as 
well.  For  the  spoken  language  is  the  living  language, 
the  language  of  the  people.  With  the  present  Parlia- 
ment a  new  order  of  things  will  be  established  in  Japan, 
and  the  freedom  of  the  press  must  follow  in  due  course. 

[135] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Ministers  of  State  incline  to  think  that  the  time  is  almost 
come.  But  it  is  well  to  remember  that  while  the  present 
laws  are  cruelly  severe,  as  judged  by  Western  notions, 
they  are,  as  Professor  Chamberlain  points  out,  not  so 
severe  historically  speaking,  because  it  is  hardly  a 
quarter  of  a  century  since  freedom  of  speech  was  denied 
to  the  Mikado's  subjects,  not  theoretically,  perhaps,  but 
to  all  intents  and  purposes. 

It  was  long  a  capital  offense  to  memorialize  the  Gov- 
ernment. Those  who  did  so — and  history  gives  many 
instances — were  wont  to  write  what  they  had  to  say  in 
the  form  of  a  letter  to  the  Prime  Minister,  and  then, 
calmly  kneeling  at  the  gate  of  some  public  building, 
commit  "  hara-kiri,"  or,  to  use  the  polite  term,  "  sep- 
puku."  The  police,  who  may  have  stood  respectfully 
at  a  distance  while  the  act  was  committing,  would  find 
the  letter  on  searching  the  body  of  the  suicide,  and  report 
its  contents  to  the  Minister.  Sometimes  they  made  bold 
to  hand  a  petition  to  a  minister  or  even  to  the  Shogun 
direct,  as  Viscount  Hayashi  recounts  in  his  interesting 
book  "  For  His  People,"  but  the  result  was  always  hara- 
kiri  or  worse.  His  Excellency,  the  Viscount's  hero,  an 
historical  person,  was  led  out  with  his  wife  and  four 
children.  First  the  little  ones  were  beheaded,  then  the 
frantic  mother  was  crucified,  and,  finally,  Sogoro  also 
was  crucified  beside  her. 


[136] 


CHAPTER    SIXTEEN 

BOBBY 

IN  our  visits  to  the  honorable  editor  in  the  august 
jail  we  saw  much  of  Junsa,  the  police  officer.     We 
liked  him.      So  do  all  foreigners. 
This  is  natural,  for  the  Japanese  Bobby  is  a  gentle- 
man by  birth,  a  model  of  courteous  dignity  and  a  good 
fighter.     In    consideration    of    these    qualifications    the 
Government  gives  him  six  yen  a  month,  almost  three 
dollars.     He  is  a  gentleman,  because  he  comes  from  the 
highest  of  the  social   grades — the  samurai — and  until 
1871  was  a  military  retainer  of  a  daimiyo,  as  the  feudal 
lords  were  called  who  ruled  over  the  provinces  of  Japan. 
He  was  born  to  the  use  of  the  sword,  and  even  now,  ex- 
cept in  seaports,  it  is  his  weapon  as  well  as  his  badge  of 
office,  though  rarely  is  he  compelled  to  use  it. 

Samurai,  according  to  the  dictionaries,  means  "  mili- 
tary class,"  "  warriors,"  or  "  gentry."  Recently  the 
Chinese  word  "  shizoku,"  of  precisely  the  same  meaning, 
has  come  into  vogue,  why,  no  one  knows,  for  it  adds 
nothing  to  the  significance  of  the  idea.  It  is  strange 
that  the  Japanese,  who  look  down  on  the  Chinese,  delight 
to  use  their  words.  The  samurai  lived  in  the  daimiyo's 
castle,  and  received  annually  an  allowance  of  so  many 
koku  of  rice,  according  to  his  importance  and  the  rich- 
ness of  the  province.  Japanese  still  reckon  incomes  in 

[137] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

koku.  The  samurai's  business  was  to  be  a  gentleman. 
In  Old  Japan  all  gentlemen  must  be  soldiers  and  all  sol- 
diers gentlemen.  To-day  it  would  not  be  quite  wrong  to 
say  policemen.  The  samurai  attended  his  daimiyo  on 
all  occasions,  and  fought  for  him  whenever  there  was 
trouble  with  another  daimiyo.  He  was  the  embodiment 
of  loyalty,  and  would  give  his  life  deliberately  to  avenge 
an  insult  to  his  lord. 

Mitford's  "  Story  of  the  Forty-Seven  Ronins  "  shows 
how  he  could  do  this.  The  ronins  were  samurai  without 
a  master.  In  Mitford's  story,  which  relates  a  fact  of 
Japanese  history,  they  carried  out  a  scheme  of  vengeance 
requiring  months  of  preparation,  knowing  all  the  while 
that,  whether  they  failed  or  succeeded,  the  Shogun  would 
sentence  them  to  hara-kiri. 

So  to-day,  the  samurai,  with  all  the  instincts  of  ancient 
chivalry  and  his  three  dollars  a  month  salary,  prome- 
nades the  highways  and  byways  of  Dai  Nippon  armed 
with  a  saber  and  a  ball  of  twine,  and  preserves  order 
the  like  of  which  no  other  country  in  the  world  maintains. 
The  saber  is  in  lieu  of  a  policeman's  "  billy,"  and  the 
twine  he  uses  instead  of  handcuffs. 

It  is  interesting  to  watch  Bobby  as  he  deftly  weaves 
a  net  about  his  captive  until  he  looks  as  though  he  were 
wrapped  up  in  a  hammock.  This  weaving  has  an  esoteric 
significance,  doubtless,  as  no  need  of  doing  it  is  manifest. 
Etiquette  in  Japan  is  against  a  captive's  trying  to  escape 
after  he  has  been  informed  courteously  that  he  is  under 
arrest  and  should  augustly  condescend  to  accompany  his 
captor  to  the  police-station. 

[138] 


A    SAMURAI    WITH    PRISONER 


BOBBY 

The  policeman  always  says,  "  Go  men  nasai " 
("August  pardon  deign"),  and  the  culprit,  as  he 
stands  patiently  to  be  woven  in,  replies,  "  Do  itashima- 
shite  "  ("  Oh,  don't  mention  it  ").  When  the  weaving 
is  over  Bobby  has  the  culprit  "  on  a  string  "  and,  hold- 
ing one  end  thereof,  escorts  him  to  the  station,  where  the 
captor  salutes  his  chief  in  military  style,  and  the  captive 
bows  low  and  declares  he  is  mortified  to  be  the  cause  of 
so  much  trouble.  Both  ends  of  the  string  are  heard 
from,  and  the  chief  then  decides  whether  to  line  or  to  dis- 
miss, or  to  hold  the  offender  for  further  examination. 

Bobby  wears  a  military  uniform — white  in  summer 
and  blue  in  winter.  He  always  salutes  when  a  foreigner 
speaks  to  him,  and  will  walk  a  half-mile  with  one  to 
show  the  way.  He  will  not  accept  a  tip.  His  instincts 
and  the  rules  of  the  Police  Department  forbid  his  doing 
so,  and  then,  besides,  there  is  the  Government  pay — 
three  dollars  a  month,  on  which  he  feeds  and  clothes  his 
family. 

He  will  take  charge  of  a  foreigner  in  search  of  an 
hotel,  and  will  escort  him  to  the  best  lodgings  to  be  had, 
where  he  will  caution  mine  host  against  overcharging 
the  guest.  In  the  monthly  bazaars  that  are  held  in  the 
streets  leading  to  various  temples  in  Tokio,  Bobby  is 
ever  watchful  lest  the  dealers  ask  the  foreigner  too  much 
for  their  wares.  So  vigilant  is  he  that  the  stranger  often 
makes  a  better  bargain  than  a  native  could. 

One  of  them  through  clever  detective  work  secured 
over  one  thousand  yen  that  a  native  had  stolen  from  a 
foreigner,  but  he  refused  the  gift  of  money  that  grati- 

[139] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

tude  prompted.  After  much  persuasion,  however,  he  ac- 
cepted a  kimono,  though  not  before  the  American  had  re- 
ceived special  permission  from  the  Police  Department  to 
make  the  present. 

In  Yokohama  and  the  other  seaports,  where  the  police- 
man does  not  carry  a  saber,  he  handles  his  "  billy  "  quite 
as  well  as  any  foreign  policeman.  He  is  as  wonderfully 
dexterous  in  the  use  of  this  as  he  is  with  the  saber,  and 
that  is  saying  much.  Let  an  expert  speak.  Professor 
Norman,  late  of  the  Imperial  Naval  College  of  Japan, 
with  whom  fencing  is  a  hobby,  has  studied  fencing  of 
all  sorts  in  England,  France,  Germany,  Austria,  Turkey, 
Persia,  Siam,  China,  and  Japan.  He  says  that  the  Japa- 
nese policeman  is  the  most  dexterous  swordsman  living. 

Even  with  his  club  he  will  enter  a  drinking  place 
where  a  half-dozen  men-o'-war's  men  are  having  a 
rough-and-tumble  fight,  and  arrest  them  all  with  celer- 
ity and  ease.  Jack  has  a  wholesome  dread  of  the  little 
man  in  blue,  and  trembles  when  he  sees  the  "  billy."  It 
is  an  odd  sight  to  see  him  staggering  to  the  station-house 
in  charge  of  a  man  whom  it  would  seem  he  could  pack 
under  his  arm.  It  is  like  an  ant  taking  home  a  beetle. 

The  entire  police  force  in  Japan  is  under  a  single 
head,  with  the  chief  offices  in  Tokio  and  a  subdepart- 
ment  in  each  province.  The  chief  is  a  man  of  extraor- 
dinary powers.  His  officers  command  such  respect  as 
only  military  men  enjoy  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  and 
the  entire  system  is  as  efficient,  probably,  as  can  be  found 
in  the  world  to-day. 

[140] 


CHAPTER  SEVENTEEN 

PLAYHOUSES,  PLAYERS,  AND  PLAYS 

THE  Secretary  to  the  Chief  of  Police,  a  young 
Viscount  who  spoke  English  well,  and  who  had 
conducted  us  on  our  first  visit  to  the  august  jail, 
took  us  to  the  theater  one  morning,  and  we  spent  the 
day  there.     We  went  often  after  that,  and  on  the  west 
coast  brought  criticism  on  our  youthful  heads  by  the 
keenness  we  displayed  in  studying  the  stage. 

The  influence  of  Count  Inouye's  garden  party,  at 
which  the  Mikado  was  present  and  saw  Danjuro  and 
other  great  actors,  had  not  reached  Etchiu.  But  we  per- 
sisted in  our  researches  and  found  out  several  things. 
One  of  the  first  of  our  impressions  was  that  a  man  needs 
gymnastic  eyes  and  a  laminated  throat  to  be  an  actor  in 
Japan.  The  eyes  count  for  more,  however.  A  good 
eye- wriggler  need  not  want  for  a  position,  nor  should 
the  owner  of  an  india-rubber  face,  for  "  making  faces  " 
is  an  art  with  the  Japanese  stage  folk. 

The  achievements  of  these  artists  are  illustrated  ac- 
curately by  the  contorted  countenances  shown  on  the 
cheap  paper  fans  so  plentiful  in  summer  time  the  world 
over.  These  fan  illustrations,  be  they  never  so  gro- 
tesque or  weird  or  fantastic,  are  exact  representations 
of  stage  scenes.  They  are  not  exaggerations.  The  gar- 
ments shown  in  the  pictures  conceal  effectively  all  out- 
line of  the  human  form,  but  they  are  stage  costumes 

[141] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

such  as  Japanese  actors  wear  to-day;  and  the  faces,  in 
spite  of  the  distortion  they  display,  are  portraits  of 
theatrical  stars  which  anyone  familiar  with  the  native 
theater  would  recognize  immediately. 

I  believe  there  are  no  better  equipped  actors  in  the 
world  to-day  than  those  found  on  the  Japanese  boards. 
The  theaters,  too,  such  as  Meijiza  and  Kabukiza,  in 
Tokio,  are  excellent,  with  their  electric  lights,  their  re- 
volving stages,  and  their  simple  yet  beautiful  scenery. 
Many  of  the  plays  would  be  intelligible  to  an  audience 
that  did  not  know  a  word  of  Japanese.  Danjuro,  whose 
real  name  is  Horikoshi  Shu,  and  Kiugoro  the  great 
comedian,  speak  a  world  language  and  will  make  you 
laugh  or  cry  at  will.  It  is  a  pity  they  cannot  be  pre- 
vailed upon  to  make  a  foreign  tour.  They  would  draw 
well. 

Their  versatility  is  marvelous.  They  play  comedy» 
tragedy,  and  farce,  in  either  male  or  female  parts,  with 
equal  facility  and  happiness.  They  were  born  to  the 
stage,  as  were  their  parents  and  grandparents  before 
them  for  ten  generations,  and  have  taken  parts  from  the 
time  they  were  of  sufficient  size  to  be  seen  by  the  spec- 
tators. With  such  inheritance  and  such  training  it 
would  be  strange  if  they  did  not  excel. 

In  spite  of  all  this  excellence,  however,  it  is  only  re- 
cently the  theater  has  been  in  good  repute  in  the  Mi- 
kado's Empire.  Count  Inouye,  then  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  gave  his  famous  garden-party  in  the  autumn  of 
1887,  for  the  purpose  of  elevating  the  stage.  His  Im- 
perial Majesty  Mutsu  Hito  attending,  set  the  seal  of 

[142] 


PLAYHOUSES 

supreme  approval  upon  a  profession  which  before  that 
time  had  been  taboo  with  gentlefolk. 

The  records  of  the  census-taker  show  the  position  of 
actors  under  the  old  regime.  This  official  counted  them, 
"  ip  piki,  ni  hikki,  sam  biki,"  etc.,  when  reckoning  the 
number  of  men  in  the  theater.  That  seems  harmless 
enough  until  it  is  explained  that,  in  counting  in  Japa- 
nese, "  ichi,  ni,  san,  shi,  go,  roku,"  etc.  (one,  two,  three, 
four,  five,  six),  certain  auxiliaries  to  the  numerals  are 
used,  according  to  the  kind  of  things  that  are  being 
counted.  For  instance,  human  beings  are  "  mei "  or 
"  nin,"  and  are  usually  counted  "  ichi  nin,  ni  nin,  san 
nin,"  etc.  Flat  things,  such  as  sheets  of  paper,  are 
"  mai  " — "  ichi  mai,  ni  mai,"  etc. ;  houses  are  "  ken  " — 
"  ik  ken,  ni  ken,  san  ken,"  etc. ;  boats  are  "  so  " — "  is 
so,  ni  so,  san  zo,"  etc. ;  and  living  creatures,  except 
human  beings  and  birds,  are  "  hiki  " — "  ip  piki,  ni  hiki, 
sam  biki,  shi  hiki,"  etc.  Actors,  therefore,  came  under 
the  general  classification  of  beasts. 

Until  recently  the  upper  classes  kept  away  from  the 
theaters  or  went  there  only  in  disguise.  But,  in  spite 
of  this,  good  plays  were  produced  and,  financially,  at 
least,  the  profession  prospered.  To-day  distinguished 
actors  are  received  in  the  homes  of  persons  of  noble  rank. 

The  Japanese  theater  is  the  only  place  left  in  which 
one  can  study  the  ways  of  Old  Japan.  Though  it  re- 
tains many  of  the  ancient  and  grotesque  traditions  of  its 
early  days,  it  is  accurate  in  presenting  customs  that  else 
long  since  would  have  passed  from  memory.  Its  lan- 
guage, too,  is  formal  and  archaic,  and  the  intonation  of 

[143] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

the  actors  almost  terrible.  You  will  not  find  such  lan- 
guage or  such  voices  anywhere  off  the  stage.  A  half- 
minute's  attempt  to  imitate  the  sounds  the  native  actors 
produce  would  give  a  Westerner  bronchitis.  The  throat 
is  contracted,  the  veins  swell,  and  the  blood  seems  ready 
to  burst  from  every  pore  in  the  tragedian's  face.  Then 
the  eyes  roll,  individually  and  independently,  one  up, 
the  other  down,  one  to  the  east  and  the  other  to  the  west, 
or  only  one  gyrates  and  the  other  rolls,  until  only  the 
white  shows.  The  iris  disappears  entirely.  This  is 
done  especially  when  the  eye-wriggler  wishes  to  demon- 
strate that  he  represents  a  character  that  is  bold  and 
bad.  When  you  see  him  you  will  believe  he  does  so. 

The  bearing  of  the  actors  cast  for  kings  and  queens 
is  comical.  It  brings  to  mind  descriptions  of  the  old 
miracle  plays.  To  walk  like  ordinary  mortals  would  not 
do  for  royalty  or  for  personages  of  any  sort.  They 
must  strut  like  a  German  recruit  breaking  in.  It  is 
something  to  remember  the  entrance  of  a  Chinese  Em- 
peror as  he  comes  down  the  aisle  through  the  audience. 
At  each  step  his  foot  rises  quite  to  the  level  of  his  chin, 
while  his  revolving  eyes  appear  to  be  two  inches  in  diam- 
eter. All  this  seems  childish  enough  to  ruin  the  effect  of 
the  most  excellent  acting,  but  it  does  not. 

In  battle  scenes,  particularly,  the  exaggeration  is  ex- 
treme. Japanese  actors  die  hard — on  the  stage.  It  is 
appalling  to  see  how  long  they  last.  They  stagger  about, 
still  lashing  at  each  other,  after  they  are  shot  as  full  of 
arrows  as  a  porcupine  is  full  of  quills.  The  first  arrow 
would  have  done  for  them  anywhere  but  in  the  theater. 


PLAYHOUSES 

Stage  blood  is  over  everything;  but  the  audience  de- 
lights in  gory  scenes,  and  the  actors  must  be  "  an  uncon- 
scionable time  a-dying."  Arms  and  legs  are  lopped  off. 
The  wounded  roll  about  making  terrible  grimaces,  and 
dummy  limbs,  appearing  through  the  floor,  twitch  and 
jerk  about  the  stage  in  a  way  not  pleasant  to  weak 
nerves. 

In  place  of  the  calcium  with  the  colored  slides,  a  black- 
hooded  mute  with  a  bamboo  pole,  at  the  end  of  which  is 
a  lighted  candle,  moves  about  with  much  agility  and 
illumines  the  chief  actor's  countenance  by  means  of  the 
sputtering  dip.  To  the  stranger  this  jet-black  elf  is 
rather  an  attraction  in  himself  and  a  serious  distraction 
from  the  play,  but  after  a  while  the  spectator  grows  ac- 
customed to  the  imp  and  is  oblivious  to  his  presence,  and 
the  actor  holds  the  entire  attention. 

Another  distraction  is  the  orchestra,  and  a  dismal  one 
it  is  to  the  uninitiated.  Its  performances  should  have  a 
chapter  to  themselves.  It  is  usually  at  one  end  of  the 
stage,  behind  a  screen,  which  conceals  the  appalling 
physiognomies  of  the  members,  but  does  not  add  har- 
mony to  the  sounds.  The  "  music  "  and  "  singing  "  con- 
tinue without  a  pause  all  the  time  the  curtain  is  up. 
The  songs  are  indescribable,  for  the  tones  are  something 
between  the  squealing  of  a  pig  and  the  wail  of  a  lost 
soul.  It  has  a  certain  fitness,  however,  one  discovers 
after  several  hearings,  especially  in  the  ghost  and  goblin 
acts — and  during  the  carnage  of  the  battle  scenes  it  is 
quite  in  harmony  with  the  interminable  slaughter. 

The  general  appearance  of  the  Japanese  stage  is  much 
[  145] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

the  same  as  the  stage  in  a  foreign  theater.  The  stage 
itself  revolves,  but  otherwise  the  scenery  is  managed 
much  as  it  is  in  this  country.  The  actors,  when  they  die, 
are  attended  to  by  the  hooded  elves,  who  see  them  safely 
away  behind  blankets. 

The  audience  does  not  applaud  by  hand-clapping;  it 
shouts  the  actor's  name.  It  is  a  comfortable  audience, 
with  any  amount  of  time.  Plays  begin  at  eight  o'clock 
in  the  morning  and  continue  until  seven  in  the  evening. 
Different  theaters  give  performances  at  different  hours, 
however.  In  some  places  the  doors  open  only  in  the  even- 
ing. The  floor  of  an  empty  theater  looks  like  a  checker 
board,  otherwise  the  theater  looks  much  like  a  playhouse 
in  this  country.  The  difference  is,  that  there  are  no 
stalls.  The  entire  seating  space  is  partitioned  off  into 
squares  by  means  of  railing,  about  a  foot  above  the  soft- 
matted  floor.  This  gives  the  orchestra  and  pit  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  checker  board.  Each  square  holds  a  half- 
dozen  spectators.  In  the  balcony  often  there  are  boxes. 
Generally  the  spectators  have  tea-caddies  and  their 
lunch  with  them,  especially  in  the  country.  Folk  often 
take  gourds  of  sake  too,  but  in  towns  the  tea-houses  of 
the  neighborhood  provide  all  sorts  of  refreshments  at 
moderate  cost. 

Between  the  acts  the  spectators  visit  about  the  house 
and  exchange  sake  cups.  Occasionally  some  of  the 
actors  come  down  to  see  them.  They  always  receive  a 
present,  just  as  geisha  do.  All  sorts  of  hawkers  of  food 
and  drink  run  about  on  the  railings  while  the  curtain  is 
down,  offering  their  wares  to  the  spectators. 

[146] 


PLAYHOUSES 

Smoking  goes  on  all  through  the  performance.  There 
is  no  formality  of  dress,  nor  is  it  unusual  to  see  a  spec- 
tator curl  up  for  a  nap  to  carry  him  through  a  portion 
of  the  play  he  does  not  care  for.  When  an  act  is  end- 
ing, the  curtain-man  announces  it  by  a  nerve-shattering 
racket,  made  with  two  hard  pieces  of  wood  which  he  beats 
together.  As  the  curtain  falls,  all  the  children  in  the 
place  rush  for  the  stage  and  have  a  merry  game  of  tag. 
Often  they  crawl  behind  to  see  what  is  going  on.  No 
one  interferes  with  them  nor  shows  the  least  annoyance 
at  their  pranks.  The  stage  is  theirs  until  the  clatter- 
man  sends  the  curtain  up  again. 

Queer  as  Japanese  theatrical  methods  are,  they  are  far 
ahead  of  the  methods  that  obtain  in  China.  The  Chi- 
nese theater  is  familiar  to  some  extent  abroad,  for  one 
may  see  it  wherever  there  is  a  Chinese  colony,  notably 
in  San  Francisco,  in  New  York  City,  and  in  various 
places  in  the  colonies ;  but  the  Japanese  play  has  stayed 
at  home,  though  Kawakami  and  Yakko,  the  geisha,  after 
various  adventures  in  America,  made  a  hit  in  Lon- 
don, and  especially  at  the  Paris  Exposition,  where  they 
showed  that  a  good  Japanese  troop,  aided  by  a  clear 
translation  with  intelligible  notes,  could  do  exceedingly 
well.  Their  French  manager  knew  his  business. 

At  present  there  is  little  differentiation  in  the  foreign 
mind  between  things  Japanese  and  Chinese.  This  an- 
noys the  subjects  of  the  Mikado,  for  they  are  not  re- 
lated to  the  people  they  recently  conquered.  Neither  in 
blood  nor  in  language  is  there  any  relationship  what- 
ever, unless  Japan's  many  borrowings  make  China  a 

[147] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

sort  of  uncle.  In  Japan,  foreigners  enjoy  the  theater; 
but  in  China,  hardly.  There  is  no  way  of  stopping  a 
Chinese  play.  Once  it  is  fairly  started  it  runs  until  the 
theatre  is  burned  down,  or  the  actors  die  of  old  age. 
Many  Japanese  plays,  however,  are  of  the  same  structure 
and  duration  as  English  plays.  Where  the  theater  is 
open  all  day  the  play  is  broken  in  two,  and  between  the 
sections  of  a  sketch,  something  like  a  curtain-raiser  fills 
in. 

On  the  Japanese  stage  dead  men  are  taken  off  by  the 
attendants.  They  do  not  jump  up  and  trot  off  in  the 
merry  Chinese  fashion.  The  orchestra  in  Japan  is  not 
entirely  tomtom  and  squeak,  either ;  nor  does  it  sit  on  the 
stage,  mixed  up  with  the  actors.  Indeed,  some  of  the 
performances  on  the  samisen  are  exceedingly  clever  and 
full  cf  life.  Japanese  scenery  is  well-nigh  perfect,  and 
the  revolving  stage,  of  which  the  Chinese  know  nothing, 
saves  much  time. 

Recently,  too,  in  Japan,  mixed  troops  are  allowed. 
Men  and  women  may  appear  on  the  stage  together.  This 
is  not  so  in  China,  nor  can  it  be  said  to  be  in  great  favor 
as  yet  in  Japan,  because  the  old  ideas  are  not  gone  yet. 
Japanese  plays  are  extremely  realistic,  more  so  than 
would  be  allowable  were  both  sexes  on  the  stage  together. 
The  appearance  of  women  in  companies  with  men  cer- 
tainly would  curtail  this  realism,  and  it  is  thought  by 
some  that  drama  would  lose  thereby. 

Since  the  war  the  theater  has  prospered  mightily, 
and  prices  have  gone  up.  Still,  two  dollars  is  not  a 
great  sum  to  pay  for  twelve  hours'  use  of  a  good  box, 

[148] 


PLAYHOUSES 

and  a  chance  to  sec  much  that  is  ludicrous,  but  also  much 
that  is  admirable  and  instructive. 

One  evening  Gardner  beckoned  two  of  the  performers 
to  our  square.  We  had  a  cup  of  sake  with  them  and 
asked  them  to  come  to  see  us  the  next  day,  Nichiyobi, 
that  being  our  one  holiday  in  the  week  and  therefore  a 
reception  day.  They  did  so.  In  fact  the  whole  troop 
came,  so  that  we  had  to  adjourn  to  a  tea-house  not  far 
away,  where  there  was  more  room.  The  news  that  we 
were  entertaining  players  spread,  and  I  fear  we  lost 
caste  sadly,  but  we  had  a  grand  time,  nevertheless.  Sev- 
eral of  the  townsfolk  whom  we  knew  came  also,  and 
though  they  may  have  held  an  actor  in  contempt  no  one 
would  have  suspected  it  from  their  actions.  They  ex- 
changed sake-cups  with  the  men  from  the  theater, 
played  chess  with  them,  and  later,  when  the  geisha  had 
arrived,  joined  in  a  sort  of  grand  march,  which  the  pro- 
fessional folk  led.  There  was  never  such  a  Nichiyobi 
before  in  Etchiu,  I  will  warrant.  We  felt  we  were  work- 
ing along  the  lines  of  the  distinguished  chief  of  the  For- 
eign Office. 

The  dismay  that  came  upon  us  when  first  we  saw  how 
many  the  two  whom  we  had  invited  were,  changed  rap- 
idly to  joy  under  the  stimuli  of  the  occasion — stimuli, 
by  the  way,  which  the  master  of  the  tea-house  kept  con- 
stantly in  evidence.  We  were  pleased  with  our  good 
work. 

"  I  wish  it  continuing  always,"  said  Okashi.  Then  he 
had  a  cask  of  sake  set  out  in  the  road  where  several  in- 
dividuals had  collected,  and  the  theater  folk  helped  to 

[149] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

apportion  it,  and  in  this  kindly  work  our  other  guests  as- 
sisted, until  someone  ran  away  with  the  cask.  We  re- 
tired, of  course,  without  saying  good-night,  feeling  sure 
that  Okashi  would  not  let  the  evening  drag.  Gardner's 
last  remark  was,  "  Don't  you  think  the  stage  will  be  all 
right  if  only  the  people  on  it  are  elevated?  " 
They  were,  so  I  agreed  with  him. 


[150] 


CHAPTER   EIGHTEEN 

.     "  MUSIC  " 

BESIDES  the  actors  and  the  plays  that  we 
studied  in  the  theaters,  "  gaku  "  attracted  our 
attention.  It  was  so  persistently  bad  we  could 
not  help  becoming  interested.  We  had  some  of  the 
"  gakunin  "  at  the  house  one  afternoon  for  a  close  in- 
spection. 

Okashi  San  treated  them  with  some  consideration,  for, 
as  he  said,  their  fame  was  great,  but  Gardner  and  I  had 
trouble  in  keeping  up  to  Okashi's  dignity  of  bearing. 
I  do  not  believe  either  of  us  ever  had  such  another  hour 
in  our  lives.  We  were  full  of  internal  cramps  through 
trying  not  to  laugh,  and  the  pain  was  such  that  it  was 
equally  difficult  to  restrain  our  tears.  To  sit  there  in 
apparent  peace,  while  trying  desperately  not  to  do  two 
things  so  opposite  in  kind,  was  a  strain  our  nervous  sys- 
tems did  not  soon  recover  from. 

"  Gaku  "  is  a  Japanese  word  which  the  dictionaries 
translate  "  music."  If  you  ever  hear  any  gaku  you  will 
wonder  what  is  the  matter  with  the  dictionaries,  and  will 
suspect  their  trustworthiness  ever  after,  consulting  them 
I  fear  with  hesitancy.  But  they  are  rather  good  except 
for  such  words  as  song,  music,  and  tadaima. 

Gaku  should  be  translated,  "  a  series  of  irregular  and 
disconnected  vocal  squeaks  accompanied  by  strings 

[151] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

twanging  out  of  tune  and  interspersed  with  caterwauls." 
That  would  be  comprehensive  and  exact,  except  when  the 
vocal  squeaks  are  omitted.  Without  the  squeaks  gaku 
is  the  same  in  kind — unqualified  and  willful  discord,  but 
not  so  much  of  it. 

The  dictionaries  would  have  you  believe  also  that  the 
vocal  squeaks  are  singing.  They  say  that  "  uta  "  means 
song,  that  "  utau  "  means  to  sing,  and  that  "  O  uta 
utau  nasai "  means  "  Honorable  song  to  sing  conde- 
scend," I.  e.,  "  Please  sing  a  song."  Again  your  faith 
receives  a  shock.  "  O  uta  utau  nasai  "  should  be  trans- 
lated "  Bring  me  two  earfuls  of  cotton."  With  your 
ears  well  stuffed  you  may  listen  to  gaku  without  going 
mad.  Otherwise  much  self-control  is  necessary.  Per- 
haps Brinkley's  new  edition  will  give  uta  as  "  song " 
with  the  modifying  word  "  Japanese  "  or  "  native  "  be- 
fore it,  and  I  trust  it  will  do  as  much  for  gaku,  too. 

There  are  many  kinds  of  gaku  in  Japan,  each  of  which 
is  worse  than  any  of  the  others,  with  one  exception  that 
may  be  made  occasionally  in  favor  of  classical  gaku. 
This  kind  is  esoteric,  so  very  esoteric  at  some  of  the 
Shinto  festivals  that  only  the  motions  of  producing  the 
discord  are  made,  and  the  soul-piercing  uta  is  left  out 
as  well.  These  are  the  only  times  you  will  not  desire 
cotton. 

When  court  musicians,  the  most  classical  of  all  gaku 
folk  in  Japan,  break  out  into  sound,  the  atmosphere  is 
torn  to  ribbons.  There  is  something  in  the  result  to  sug- 
gest that  striking  picture,  "  The  March  of  the  Con- 
querors." One  sees  the  chief  killers  that  the  world  has 

[152] 


GAKUNIN 


11  MUSIC  ' 

known  advancing  between  the  parallel  lines  of  dead,  and 
also  a  tidal-wave  full  of  cats,  pawing  helplessly  in  the 
foam  and  clamoring  for  succor.  Yet  all  this  pleases  the 
Japanese  ear,  so  that  the  more  discordant  of  the 
gakunin  acquire  fame  and  are  talked  about.  But  the 
gaku  itself  never  attracts  notice.  No  one  discusses  it,  no 
one  cares  who  composed  it. 

Classical  gaku  is  a  thousand  years  old,  two  thousand 
likely.  It  came  over  from  China,  back  somewhere  in 
the  sixth  century,  and  no  one  knows  how  long  it  had 
afflicted  China  before  leaving  for  the  Land  of  the  Rising 
Sun.  It  has  rot  grown  better  ever  since. 

After  watching  our  guests  we  understood  how,  now 
and  again,  a  gakunin  dies  of  heart  failure  or  of  con- 
gestion of  the  brain.  The  men  strained  so  in  squeezing 
out  the  uta  that  their  necks  swelled  and  the  veins  stood 
out  as  large  as  clothes-lines.  -  Their  eyes  were  blood- 
shot, and  their  faces  a  dull  brown  purple.  Each  growled 
and  gagged  and  yapped  until  he  reached  the  convulsion 
point.  One  of  the  gakunin  unlimbered  his  neck  and 
thrust  it  out  like  a  chicken  reaching  for  a  bug,  and  the 
blood  receding,  left  his  face  the  color  of  washed-out 
leather.  Then  the  other  did  the  same;  and  they  alter- 
nated for  a  while,  antiphonally,  so  to  speak.  I  felt  it 
would  be  foresight  to  order  coffins  for  Gardner  and  me 
at  once,  but  I  could  not  speak. 

When  several  gakunin  unite  in  crime  they  pay  no  at- 
tention to  key  or  to  harmony,  for  such  things  do  not 
concern  gaku.  They  do,  however,  keep  common  time  to- 
gether— the  only  time  the  Japanese  know  anything 

[153] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

about.  Each  "  singer  "  strains  and  exhausts  himself  in- 
dependently of  the  others,  in  whatever  way  he  can  pro- 
duce most  discord.  Gardner  estimated  that  with  each 
word  the  gakunin  squeezed  out  he  expended  enough 
energy  to  wind  an  eight-day  clock. 

As  there  was  no  notation  for  any  but  the  classical 
gaku,  all  gaku  must  be  handed  down  by  word  of  mouth 
and  learned  from  the  living  teacher.  Wee  girls  sit 
for  hours  each  day  before  the  instructor — usually  a 
woman  past  the  flower  of  her  youth,  and  no  longer  in 
demand  in  the  tea-houses — and  practice  at  the  "  break," 
the  point  just  between  the  lower  and  higher  register, 
where  all  the  possible  raspiness  of  her  little  voice  can  be 
brought  to  complete  development. 

All  Japanese  uta  are  rendered  at  the  "  break."  This 
is  a  cruel  surprise  to  the  foreigner  when  he  first  hears  it, 
for  nothing  further  from  his  expectations  well  could 
be  when  the  dainty  maid  sits  down  before  him,  with  a 
winsome  smile,  her  samisen  resting  on  her  knee,  and  her 
taper  fingers  playing  up  and  down  the  strings.  He  is 
utterly  unprepared  for  the  series  of  weird,  discordant 
notes,  which  sound  more  like  an  incantation  to  "  blue 
devils  "  than  what  the  interpreter  assures  you  it  is — a 
love-song. 

After  this  attempt  to  give  the  reader  a  suspicion  of 
what  gaku  is  like,  it  need  not  be  a  surprise  to  hear  that 
both  Professor  Chamberlain  and  Koidzumi  Yakumo 
(Lafcadio  Hearn)  say  that  a  Japanese  Bayreuth  is  un- 
thinkable. Still  there  is  some  hope.  The  speaking  voice 
of  the  natives  is  soft  and  sweet.  The  vocal  organs  are 

[  154-  ] 


« <  MUSIC  ' 

all  there,  and  the  ear  does  not  appear  to  be  abnormal,  for 
with  the  violin  and  the  piano  Japanese  students  studying 
abroad  have  done  good  work.  An  effort  is  making  now 
to  build  up  a  school  of  foreign  music  in  Tokio. 

As  yet,  however,  the  general  run  of  Japanese  care 
nothing  for  our  music.  It  does  not  distress  them,  it  is 
true,  as  much  of  theirs  does  us,  but  they  do  not  under- 
stand it.  It  is  ridiculous  to  them,  as  a  charming  young 
European  found  out  once  in  singing  in  a  Japanese 
theater.  When  she  gave  her  high  notes  some  of  her 
hearers  laughed  so  hard  they  became  ill  and  had  to  be 
carried  out  by  attendants  who  themselves  were  nearly  as 
helpless. 

Those  who  would  like  to  study  the  "  music  "  of  Japan, 
and  have  not  at  hand  the  appalling  facilities  Gardner 
and  I  enjoyed,  cannot  do  better  than  get  Mr.  Piggatt's 
beautifully  illustrated  volume,  "  The  Music  and  Musical 
Instruments  of  Japan."  Mr.  Piggatt  finds  in  the  native 
instrumental  music  "  some  reflex  of  the  national  grace, 
some  prettily  quaint  flashes  of  melody  and  curious  phrase 
repetitions." 

According  to  Confucius,  China  had  something  like 
real  music  once,  and  Japan  probably  learned  something 
of  this  in  early  days.  It  is  too  bad  she  did  not  develop 
it.  The  idea  of  the  man  who  said  "  Let  me  write  the 
songs  of  a  country  and  I  care  not  who  makes  the  laws  " 
is  an  old  one.  The  great  Chinese  philosopher  saw  the 
truth  in  it  twenty-four  centuries  ago.  He  said,  "  Har- 
mony has  the  power  to  draw  heaven  downwards  towards 
the  earth.  It  inspires  men  to  love  the  good  and  to  do 

[155] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

their  duty.  If  one  should  desire  to  know  whether  a 
kingdom  is  well  governed,  if  its  morals  are  good  or  bad, 
the  quality  of  its  music  shall  furnish  forth  the  an- 
swers." 

On  this  theory,  what  must  a  Boxer  band  be  like? 


[156] 


CHAPTER  :NINETEEN 

BLOSSOMS  ALWAYS  IN  BLOOM 

SEVERAL  times  there  were  geisha  in  our  theater 
parties,  and  of  course  they  were  present  at  all  our 
feasts.  No  Japanese  would  think  of  giving  a  din- 
sier  without  these  innocent  hetserse,  whether  it  were  to  be 
in  a  public  tea-house  or  in  private  dwelling.  That  is,  of 
course,  unless  his  feast  were  in  the  foreign  style.  Then 
the  native  buds  and  blossoms  would  be  quite  out  of  place. 
They  are  indispensable  for  the  native  celebration, 
though.  In  five  years  I  never  saw  a  gathering  for 
pleasure  without  them.  They  make  everything  go  suc- 
cssfully,  so  cleverly,  and  with  so  little  friction. 

The  mission  of  the  geisha  is  to  make  life  merry.  Her 
whole  education  is  to  that  end.  She  can  dance  and  sing, 
and  play  on  all  sorts  of  instruments ;  she  knows  the  best 
stories  and  the  latest  jokes;  she  is  quick  at  repartee;  the 
games  she  doesn't  know  are  those  that  have  not  yet  been 
invented.  She  is  as  graceful  and  frolicsome  as  a  kitten, 
her  manners  are  exquisite,  and  she  is  as  beautiful  as — 
well,  as  beautiful  as  a  geisha.  Only  dead  folk  can  with- 
stand her  charms,  and  it  is  doubtful  about  them.  Her 
mirth  is  the  best  of  tonics.  It  will  mend  one  when  any- 
thing ails  the  health.  She  cures  everything,  that  is  to 
say,  but  diseases  of  the  heart.  These  the  geisha  has 
been  known  to  aggravate.  In  truth  she  doesn't  need 

[157] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

more  than  half  a  chance  to  put  a  heart  in  a  terrible 
way. 

Now,  in  Japan  everyone  is  always  entertaining  some- 
one! Few  things  happen  that  do  not  demand  a  feast. 
Consequently  the  geisha  is  never  out  of  sight  for  long. 
She  appears  at  the  festal  place  soon  after  the  earliest  ar- 
rivals, or  about  two  hours  before  dinner  is  announced. 
It  is  the  custom  in  Japan  for  guests  come  ahead  of  time, 
instead  of  on  the  minute  or  a  little  late. 

The  first  sight  you  have  of  her  is  as  she  bows  low  at 
the  threshold,  her  hands  palm  down  on  the  floor  before 
her,  and  her  face  pressed  close  against  them.  She  says, 
"  Omina  sama  gomen  kudasai,"  which  means,  "  Honor- 
able Mr.  and  Mrs.  Everybody,  august  pardon  deign." 
"  Irashai,"  call  out  some  of  the  guests  as  they  look  up 
from  the  chess  boards  or  tiny  packs  of  flower  cards  with 
which  they  have  been  playing.  Irashai  means  "  wel- 
come," and  the  geisha  enter  to  take  possession  of  the  tea- 
pots and  to  "jolly"  everyone  as  they  serve  the  gentle 
stimulant. 

Their  entrance  is  not  the  last  bit  wabbly,  as  one 
might  think  from  the  performances  wherein  foreign  ac- 
tresses try  to  represent  the  geisha.  A  singer's  robes 
(kimono)  are  quite  too  long  for  any  gait  like  that.  The 
European  stage-folk  must  have  got  their  ideas  of  the 
Japanese  foot  motions  from  a  study  of  native  women 
dressed  in  European  style,  certainly  not  by  watching 
Yakko  the  Entrancing.  Japanese  women  do  walk 
queerly  when  their  feet  are  incased  in  high-heeled  boots. 
Their  gracefulness  is  gone  then,  the  glide  that  holds 

[158] 


BLOSSOMS    ALWAYS    IN    BLOOM 

their  sandals  on  becomes  a  shuffle,  and  the  inward  swing- 
ing of  the  right  foot,  caused  by  the  side  pull  of  the 
kimono,  which  clings  so  closely  to  the  figure,  develops 
into  pigeon-toe. 

When  a  geisha  has  served  tea  all  round,  and  had  a 
dainty  bit  of  chaff  with  everyone,  she  glides  off  to  the 
kitchen  to  see  that  the  sake,  sashimi,  the  kwashi,  and 
other  things  are  ready.  She  has  an  artist's  eye,  and 
can  serve  raw  fish — which  sounds  anything  but  appe- 
tizing to  Westerners — so  daintily  on  a  lacquered  tray 
that  you  simply  have  to  try  a  little. 

As  soon  as  the  portions  are  arranged,  she  glides  back 
to  the  guest-room  with  china  bottles  full  of  hot  rice-beer. 
She  puts  bowls  of  water  full  of  tiny  cups  at  intervals 
about  the  room  before  the  guests,  who  have  ranged  them- 
selves along  the  border  of  the  apartment.  To  each  one 
she  offers  a  cup,  and  then  pours  out  the  sake  with  a 
bow,  saying,  "  Please  condescend  to  drink  one  full." 
With  the  wine  come  kwashi,  that  is  different  kind  of 
cakes,  which  she  serves  on  little  oblong  brazen  dishes. 
It  seems  like  beginning  with  the  desert,  but  it  is  quite 
the  proper  way  in  Japan. 

While  the  guests  are  busy  with  this  appetizer  of 
kwashi  and  sake,  the  geisha  goes  to  the  corner  of  the 
room  and  puts  on  her  evening  robes.  She  does  not  go 
out  of  the  room  to  do  this,  for  she  is  a  lightning-change 
artist,  and  as  the  daytime  garments  are  sliding  from  one 
shoulder  the  clinging  folds  of  the  evening  gown  are  upon 
the  other,  and  with  a  bit  of  a  shrug  and  a  wriggle  the 
thrush  becomes  a  nightingale. 

[159] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

An  assistant  binds  the  robe  with  a  broad  sash,  tied  in 
a  square  knot  behind  (which,  by  the  way,  is  the  original 
bustle),  and  she  comes  purring  among  the  guests  once 
more,  bearing  trays  loaded  with  lacquered  bowls  and 
china  cups,  containing  soups  and  fish  of  many  kinds, 
until  before  each  guest  there  is  a  fair  foundation  for  an 
art  museum.  Then  she  brings  out  her  "  samisen,"  a 
three-stringed,  square-headed  "  banjo,"  and,  plucking 
with  her  "  bachi  "  or  "  plectrum,"  tunes  it  to  the  weird- 
est key  that  sounds  were  ever  known  to  give.  The  sad 
melody  of  waters  beating  on  a  foreign  shore  as  the  surf- 
sprite  sings  of  loneliness — such  is  the  spirit  of  the 
geisha's  song. 

As  she  plays,  her  younger  sister  dances.  Not  as  we 
dance  here,  nor  as  any  of  the  imitation  geisha  dance. 
There  is  a  little  motion,  but  much  harmony  of  line, 
as  she  turns  about  and  postures  and  wields  her  fan 
so  deftly  that  it  seems  to  hover  in  the  air  as  if  it  were  a 
moth  circling  above  a  candle-light.  Her  posing  tells 
more  clearly  than  any  words  might  do  the  story  of  her 
elder  sister's  song.  It  is  a  love-story  always.  It  could 
not  be  anything  else  when  a  geisha  sings  it.  It  is  not 
"  Chon  Kino,"  however,  unless  she  is  a  seaport  geisha, 
and  a  cheap  geisha  at  that ;  for  "  Chon  Kino  "  is  sung 
in  the  lowest  places  only,  and  except  in  seaports  there 
are  no  low  places  in  the  whole  Empire. 

"  Chon  Kino  "  is  for  sailors,  and  men-of-war's  men, 
whom  the  natives  call  "  Damyoureyes  San."  It  is  sung 
by  a  class  of  girls  unknown  in  Japan  before  foreigners 
arrived.  Its  origin  is  not  Japanese  at  all.  It  came  from 

[160] 


A    GEISHA 


BLOSSOMS    ALWAYS    IN    BLOOM 

the  early  Dutch,  who  taught  it  to  their  temporary  wives 
at  Deshima,  Nagasaki.  It  is  really  part  of  a  game  of 
forfeits,  after  the  manner  of  "  Simon  says  '  thumbs 
up.' '  The  usual  forfeit  after  "  Yokohama,  Nagasaki, 
Hakodate,  hai,"  is  to  take  off  one  piece  of  cloth.  This 
forfeiting  continues  until  there  is  not  anything  more  to 
take  off.  Whoever  has  the  most  on  at  the  end  of  the 
game  wins. 

Geisha  dancing  is  often  pantomime,  and  where  a  half- 
dozen  of  them  dance  together  they  form  a  theatrical 
troop  in  themselves.  They  would  be  delighted  with 
their  counterparts  in  foreign  theaters,  but  they  would  be 
amused,  too,  at  the  funny  differences.  Fluffy  hair  is 
not  Japanese;  petticoats  are  not  worn  under  kimono; 
high  heels  would  play  sad  havoc  with  the  delicate  tatami 
that  cover  Japanese  floors;  waraji,  or  rough  straw  san- 
dals, are  not  worn  in  the  house  except  in  the  kitchen. 
(Geisha  either  go  barefoot  or  in  tabi.)  Kimono  fold 
round  the  body  with  the  left  side  over  and  the  right  side 
under,  unless  the  wearer  is  a  corpse.  Real  geisha  never 
hug  each  other  nor  even  hold  hands — much  less  kiss. 
Geisha  do  not  cross  their  hands  over  the  breast  when  they 
bow,  they  bend  over  as  though  giving  a  back  for  a  game 
of  leapfrog.  The  hands  are  pressed  against  the  knees 
and  the  spine  is  horizontal. 

And  another  thing  is  conspicuous  by  its  absence  in  the 
European  imitations.  It  would  be  a  sad  thing  for  the 
dear  little  girls  if  they  had  not  even  one  smoke  in  a  whole 
evening !  Geisha  carry  pipes  of  gold  and  silver  bronze, 
with  which  they  enjoy  ippuku,  one  whiff  from  time  to 

[161] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

time,  taking  a  pinch  of  mild  tobacco  from  the  leather 
pouch  each  one  has  slipped  into  her  obe. 

Moreover,  it  would  surprise  geisha  to  know  that  they 
could  be  bought  and  sold  easily,  as  the  foreign  play- 
writers  represent.  A  geisha  is  usually  indentured  to  a 
teacher  when  she  is  young,  or  perhaps  the  teacher  pays 
the  parents  for  a  release,  and  then  adopts  the  child. 
But  even  then  she  is  not  owned  as  a  slave  was  owned. 
Her  contract,  if  she  is  indentured,  stipulates  a  sum  on 
payment  of  which  she  can  be  released.  Indenture  papers 
may  change  hands,  they  do,  but  there  is  no  slavery.  If 
a  man  purchases  a  release  he  has  no  legal  claim.  All 
depends  upon  the  girl's  willingness.  If  she  is  adopted, 
and  later  runs  away  and  marries,  there  is  no  legal  cause 
for  her  recovery.  Indeed,  she  does  this  very  thing  occa- 
sionally. Many  a  Japanese  official  of  high  rank  has 
been  proud  of  such  a  helpmeet. 


[162] 


CHAPTER    TWENTY 

SIGNS  OF  THE  TIMES 

ONE  of  our  amusements  as  we  strolled  about  the 
towns  we  visited  was  to  study  the  signs  along 
the  streets.  There  was  human  interest  in  them, 
and  a  few  of  those  we  saw  were  unique.  Yet  in  spite  of 
their  oddity  they  are  truly  signs  of  the  times;  there  is 
some  history  in  telling  how  they  came  to  be,  for  they 
are  of  the  period  when  Japan  was  stepping  from  her  old 
clothes  into  her  new.  Feudalism  with  its  daimiyos  and 
military  retainers  was  disappearing,  and  so  were  caste 
distinctions.  The  Government  had  just  established  a 
system  of  schools  on  a  German-American  plan,  with 
much  English  and  much  military  drill,  and  had  set  all 
the  youth  of  the  nation  to  school  together  to  gain  West- 
ern knowledge.  Children  of  the  four  classes  of  society 
— warriors,  farmers,  artisans,  and  merchants,  and  even 
of  the  outcast  "  Etta,"  met  on  a  common  footing  for  the 
first  time. 

Hasami  San,  the  son  of  Kami  San  the  barber,  was  the 
equal  of  the  son  of  the  samurai,  and  the  barber  was 
happy  in  the  fact.  Kami  San  knew  nothing  whatever 
of  foreign  ways.  He  was  of  the  old  regime,  but  he  had 
perfect  faith  in  his  Government,  and  if  Government 
favored  foreign  ways  surely  they  were  good.  And  this 
English  language,  too,  which  all  the  schools  "were  teach- 

[163] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

ing,  so  that  no  matter  where  one  went  he  would  hear  of 
the  great  Peter  Parley  and  his  History,  of  Lord 
Macaulay,  and  Clive,  and  Warren  Hastings,  of  George 
Washington  and  the  cherry  tree.  Was  not  Hasami 
studying  about  these  things  every  day  in  classes  side  by 
side  with  gentlefolk?  Surely  he  must  put  up  an  Eng- 
lish sign  to  show  the  world  that  his  abode  was  the  home 
of  learning  as  well  as  other  houses,  even  those  of  great 
pretensions.  His  sons  should  have  the  job — Hasami  San, 
who  played  with  the  children  of  fighting  men  and  of  the 
owners  of  many  rice-fields,  who  knew  the  characters  for 
writing  "  Eigo  " — as  he  called  the  foreign  tongue,  and 
who  even  at  this  moment  was  in  military  uniform,  drill- 
ing to  become  a  soldier  in  the  army  of  the  great  Mikado. 
The  barber's  nose  was  high. 

Kami  San  talked  of  these  things  to  his  friend  Hige 
San  while  Hige  was  receiving  a  one  'cent's  worth  of 
treatment.  He  had  gone  entirely  over  Hige  San's  face 
with  his  thin  narrow  blade,  even  to  the  eyelids,  and  now 
had  hold  of  his  friend's  nose  and  was  reaming  the  hair 
from  his  nostrils  with  a  tiny  gouge-shaped  razor,  that 
few  but  a  native  barber  would  dare  to  use. 

"  The  times  are  changing,"  he  said,  as  he  rolled  Hige's 
head  a  little  to  the  right,  twirling  his  gouge,  "  and  when 
Hasami  has  leisure  from  his  studies  in  the  coming  rest 
days  of  the  school,  he  shall  show  by  the  new  knowledge 
that  I  have  the  pride  to  make  changes  too,  keeping  by 
the  times  closely  in  my  business." 

Here  he  lifted  Hige  San  a  little,  saying,  "  Augustly 
condescend  honorable  head  to  elevate,"  and  began  to 

[164] 


SIGNS    OF    THE    TIMES 

shave  the  ears.  He  did  so  deftly  and  thoroughly,  both 
inside  and  out.  When  this  was  over,  and  he  had  taken  a 
run  round  the  neck,  he  struck  a  tuning-fork  and  put  the 
handle,  which  had  a  knob  on  its  end,  first  into  one  ear 
and  then  into  the  other.  The  tuning-fork  gives  the 
customer  the  impression  that  he  can  hear  himself  purr, 
and  so  makes  him  happy. 

Hige  San  arose  shining  and  beaming,  paid  his  two 
sen  [one  cent],  said  that  Kami  San  was  augustly  glori- 
ously expertissimo  and  declared  that  an  English  sign 
over  the  sliding-doors  that  made  the  front  wall  of  the 
shop  would  be  an  honor  to  the  neighborhood,  a  sign,  in 
truth,  befitting  the  new  era  which  Tenshi  Sama,  the  Son 
of  Heaven,  had  deigned  to  honor  with  the  name  of  Meiji 
— the  Epoch  of  Enlightenment. 

"  Oh,  it  will  be,  of  course,  a  most  unworthy  and  dis- 
graceful object,  as  is  everything  about  my  miserable 
shop.  But  the  new  language  from  the  wonderful  people 
of  the  West,  that  it  is  which  I  wish  to  place  on  high," 
replied  the  polite  Kami  San. 

The  "  rest  days  "  Kami  had  referred  to  came  soon, 
and  Hasami  San  had  the  leisure  of  his  first  vacation. 
He  had  learned  the  alphabet,  "  aye,  bee,  shee,  dee,  ee, 
efoo,  jee,"  etc.,  and  could  tell  a  "  dee  "  from  an  "  oh  " 
if  he  took  time  to  think  and  then  made  the  right  guess. 
Besides,  he  knew  many  words  and  short  sentences  from 
his  first  reader.  He  could  not  pronounce  "  el,"  it  is 
true ;  the  nearest  he  could  come  to  it  was  "  eroo,"  as  is 
the  case  with  the  general  run  of  Japanese  to-day;  such 
words  as  "  literally  "  and  "  literary  "  are  beyond  them, 

[165] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

but  he  could  draw  characters  skillfully,  English  letters 
being  simple  compared  with  the  Chinese  intricacies  that 
youngsters  learn  to  write  so  deftly  with  a  brush. 

So  when  his  father  explained  the  sign  idea  to  him  he 
set  to  work  diligently,  and  by  the  time  the  holidays  were 
over  he  had  produced  an  ornament  over  his  father's 
Chinese  lettered  sign  that  filled  the  old  man's  heart  with 
joy.  It  was  in  three  lines,  which  he  printed  and  shaded 
beautifully.  It  read : 


Kami  San  was  the  proudest  man  in  town  when  he 
gazed  up  at  the  completed  work.  He  gave  a  dinner  to 
celebrate  the  event,  and  had  all  his  friends  in  for  the 
day.  Sake  flowed.  There  was  raw  fish,  boiled  fish, 
grilled  fish,  and  cuttle-fish  in  profusion,  and  even  the 
hardy  little  fishes  that  submit  to  slicing  up  alive.  In 
the  evening  he  had  lanterns  all  over  the  front  of  his 
shop,  with  special  illumination  for  the  sign.  Geisha 
strummed  their  samisens  and  danced  and  sang,  and  the 
guests  had  so  good  a  time  that  many  of  them  forgot  all 
about  going  home  until  Kami  San  awoke  them  in  the 
morning. 

The  fame  of  the  sign  spread.  Soon  it  was  the  envy 
of  every  one  of  Kami  San's  brothers  in  the  "  hairs 
way,"  and  of  the  tradesfolk  generally.  Those  of  them 
who  had  sons  that  had  learned  the  "  aye,  bee,  shee," 
commanded  them  to  do  as  Hasami  had  done,  and  those 

[166] 


SAMUNE  SOUDA  SASUPRF.  ZIN^IMBIYA 

JINJIYAE-L  TA.NEM) 


SIGNS    OF    THE    TIMES 


SIGNS    OF    THE    TIMES 

who  had  no  sons  sought  to  engage  Hasami's  services. 
Kami  San  would  not  hear  of  his  boy's  neglecting  his 
studies  of  the  wonderful  Eigo,  however,  nor  the  military 
drills.  He  was  busy,  too,  he  said,  for  customers  flocked 
to  him,  so  that  he  had  to  hire  two  more  assistants,  and 
he  needed  Hasami  himself  whenever  the  youngster  had 
any  spare  time. 

He  said  to  Hige  San  one  day,  as  he  was  shaving  care- 
fully over  the  tip  of  his  friend's  nose  and  giving  a  curve 
deftly  to  his  eyebrows,  that  he  knew  when  the  honorable 
good  thing  came  his  way ;  he  was  a  respecter  of  signs  and 
would  not  do  anything  to  make  a  good  one  common. 
Except  that  his  son  had  explained  to  him  by  means  of  a 
dictionary  what  his  sign  signified,  he  did  not  know  its 
meaning,  but  its  influence  as  it  shone  down  on  the  pass- 
ing throng  was  agreeable  to  his  ideas,  and  he  proposed 
not  to  meddle  with  it. 

Kami  San's  lack  of  assistance  did  not  hinder  matters 
much,  however.  The  sign  craze  was  on,  and  it  lasted 
longer  than  the  rabbit  craze.  But  then  the  Government 
put  a  stop  to  that,  whereas  it  has  never  interfered  with 
signs.  English  lettering  appeared  in  Yokohama,  Tokio, 
Nagasaki,  Hakodate,  Kobe,  Kiyoto,  and  hundreds  of 
other  places,  even  at  the  tea-houses  along  the  great  high- 
ways where  the  jin-riki-sha  men  stopped  for  a  sip  of  tea 
and  a  whiff  from  their  tiny  pipes,  as  this  one,  for 
example : 

"  The  tas  are  restful  and  for  sharpen  the  minds." 

And  another :  "  The  Genuinely  bier  buy  the  health 
for  drink." 

[167] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

And  a  third :  "  Of  smokes  our  tobacco  is  preasure  to 
our  Tongue  and  give  the  Healthiness  to  Hers  and  Hes ! 
Also  All  People  by  It." 

These  little  notices  in  unexpected  places  relieved  the 
monotony  of  a  journey  on  a  dull  day.  Their  passing 
will  leave  a  void.  Some  of  them  have  disappeared 
already  now  that  the  railway  has  come,  and  the  old  Kaido 
with  their  inns  do  little  of  their  former  business.  But 
those  in  the  towns  remain,  except  where  they  were,  like 
the  language  of  the  "  Damyoureyes  San,"  far  too  frank. 
The  camera  has  caught  them,  and  should  Kami  San  and 
Hasami  San  be  taken  up  in  a  chariot  of  fire,  their  work 
would  live.  An  "  Eta  "  who  was  once  an  outcast,  but 
is  now  "  Heimin,"  that  is,  a  member  of  the  great  class 
that  includes  all  but  officials  and  nobles,  expanded  under 
the  radiant  announcement  over  the  entrance  of  his  leather 
shop: 

To  TRADE  HAIR-SKIN  SORT  SHOP. 

An  entomologist  of  some  repute  in  Yokohama,  who 
supplied  collectors  of  insects  and  also  silk  raisers  with 
their  "  seeds,"  ornamented  the  front  of  his  place  of  busi- 
ness with  his  name  and  the  words : 

BUTTERFLY  AND  WORM  MERCHANTS. 

(Does  the  plural  imply  that  this  man  has  been  leading 
a  double  life?) 

The  man  who  safeguards  against  sun  and  rain  de- 
clared the  fact  publicly  as  follows: 
A  SHOP  THE  KIND  OF  PARASOL,  OR  UMBRELLA  AND 

STICKS. 
[168] 


SIGNS    OF    THE    TIMES 

and  either  of  "  parasol "  or  of  "  umbrella  and  sticks  " 
he  had  great  variety. 

Japan  looked  askance  at  butchers  in  the  early  days  of 
the  new  order.  Beef  and  pork  were  taboo  pretty  well 
all  over  the  country.  Even  now  it  is  not  easy  to  get 
animal  food  in  the  small  villages  of  the  interior,  where 
some  Buddhist  priests  still  declare  war  against  flesh  and 
wine.  But  medical  advice  following  a  cholera  scare  has 
had  much  influence,  so  that  one  may  see  this  sign  to-day 
exposed  boldly  to  view  over  a  shop : 

COWMEAT   AND   PlGMEAT. 

In  a  country  where  there  has  been  much  raw  fish,  espe- 
cially salmon,  and  not  particularly  good  drainage  until 
William  Kinimond  Burton  took  to  teaching  it  sanitation, 
troublesome  ailments  would  occur.  To  one  of  these  Mr. 
Swiftriver  had  turned  his  attention  with  success.  His 
sign  read  as  one  straight  line: 

TAPE-WORM  SWIFTRIVER  SHOP 

Mr.  Pinecape,  who  dealt  in  coals,  took  the  public  into 
his  confidence  and  confessed  the  secret  of  his  success. 
Beneath  his  name  and  address  are  these  two  lines : 

HONEST,  INDITSTORIOUS  MAKE  THE  CONT- 
INUAL, PROSPERITY. 

Mr.  Seedsmall,  who  dealt  in  so-called  temperance 
drinks,  which  the  Japanese  call  "  gun-water "  because 
of  the  "  pop,"  got  hold  of  a  dictionary  in  which  someone 
had  translated  the  names  of  his  beverages  into  Japanese 
phonetic  equivalents.  These  Japanese  syllables  do  not 

[169] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

conform  with  extreme  nicety  to  English  sounds,  prin- 
cipally because  none  of  them  ends  in  a  consonant,  but 
always  in  a  vowel,  and  none  of  them  has  the  sound  of 
"  1 "  in  it.  This  is  the  English  part  of  Seedsmall's  sign : 
RAMUNE  SOUDA  SASUPRE  ZINZINBIYA  JINJYAE-L, 

which  one  sees  at  a  glance  to  mean  Lemon  Soda,  Sars- 
aparilla,  Ginger  Beer  and  Ginger  Ale. 

The  brilliancy  of  official  uniforms  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  a  tailor,  and  he  sought  to  make  business  amongst 
the  men  of  the  army  and  navy  and  the  Government. 
His  sign  read : 

GOLD  TAIL,  SHOP. 

Posterior  decoration,  apparently,  was  his  specialty. 

Another  sign,  that  of  a  tobacco  merchant  on  Ginza, 
the  Broadway  of  Tokio,  was  probably  the  best  known 
in  the  capital  for  half  a  dozen  years.  It  was  not  amus- 
ing, for  it  merely  declared  the  maker's  brand  and  where 
one  could  find  it  on  sale,  but  it  was  ubiquitous.  The 
merchant  had  taken  the  contract  to  water  the  city's 
streets  from  one  end  to  the  other  on  all  dry  days  the 
year  round.  The  brilliant  red  carts  his  coolies  pulled 
about  told  everyone  that  in  the  tobacco  business  Mr. 
Pinemountain  of  the  Ginza  was  supreme. 

And  so  one  might  go  on  indefinitely  quoting  signs, 
labels  on  bottles  and  cigarette  packages,  the  covers  of 
books,  and  what  not,  all  of  them  strange  and  some  of 
them  incomprehensible,  yet  all  of  them  signs  of  the  effort 
of  Old  Japan  to  become  New  Japan,  an  effort  that  has 
been  triumphant. 

[170] 


CHAPTER   TWENTY-ONE 

BOWS  AND  BALLOTS 

GARDNER  and  I  had  the  good    fortune  to  be  in 
Japan  at  the  time  of  the  first  election  the  coun- 
try ever  had.     It  passed  off  with  the  greatest 
decorum  and  the  absence  of  anything  approaching  osten- 
tation, or  even  excitement,  but  it  was  not  without  some 
amusing  aspects. 

One  wonders  how  the  officials  stand  the  strain.  Elec- 
tion inspectors,  for  instance,  must  have  rubber  backs. 
They  need  them,  for  on  voting  days  they  have,  at  the 
lowest  calculation,  five  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
bows  to  make,  and  now  the  franchise  has  been  extended 
they  will  soon  have  to  "  ojigi  "  five  times  as  often. 
That  is  a  great  deal  of  hinge-work,  and  demands 
elasticity  and  lubrication,  especially  as  ojigi  does  not 
mean  a  mere  nod  of  the  head.  To  be  done  properly, 
the  body  must  double  at  the  hips,  folding  after  the 
manner  of  a  two-foot  rule.  The  "  tachiainin,"  there- 
fore, as  the  inspectors  are  called,  no  matter  how  auto- 
matic their  early  training  may  have  made  them,  have  no 
easy  work  on  balloting  days.  When  night  comes,  and 
the  polls  have  closed,  they  climb  into  their  jin-riki-shas 
and  go  home,  to  be  shampooed  by  some  blind  "  amma  " 
and  restored  to  life. 

Five  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  bows  is  a  conserva- 
[HI] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

tive  estimate.  It  allows  each  voter  only  one  ojigi,  which 
is  ridiculously  low,  for  it  is  hardly  conceivable  that  a 
voter  should  approach  the  inspectors  who  are  seated 
behind  the  ballot  boxes  with  less  than  half  a  dozen  fold- 
ings, and  etiquette  naturally  demands  that  the  inspectors 
should  fold,  too.  It  is  safe  to  allow  three  ojigi  for  each 
voter,  and  to  declare  boldly  that  every  general  election 
day  in  Japan  has  witnessed  inspectorial  doubling  to  the 
extent  of  one  million  five  hundred  thousand,  or  enough 
to  supply  the  most  energetic  saint  with  genuflections  for 
a  lifetime.  The  new  franchise,  by  similar  reasoning, 
implies  seven  million  five  hundred  thousand  bows.  Allow- 
ing a  hundred  foot-pounds  to  a  bow,  the  energy  folded 
off  into  space  on  voting  days  is  found  to  be  seventy-five 
million  foot-pounds;  or  two  thousand  two  hundred  and 
seventy-two  horse-power. 

It  costs  something  to  be  polite,  and  it  takes  time ;  but 
time  is  plentiful  in  the  Land  of  the  Rising  Sun.  A 
Japanese  needs  about  a  quarter  of  a  minute  to  ojigi. 
At  this  rate  one  man  would  be  occupied  continuously  for 
345  years  6  months  and  14  days  if  he  were  to  do  all  the 
folding  himself.  As  Japanese  draw  in  the  breath  with 
a  sucking  sound  when  they  bow,  a  person  in  a  room  ad- 
joining the  one  where  votes  are  cast  might  think  from 
the  sound,  if  he  did  not  see,  that  a  file  of  geese  were 
marching  through. 

Japan's  population  is  something  over  43,000,000. 
In  area  the  Empire  is  about  a  quarter  again  as  large  as 
the  British  Isles,  and  speaking  roughly  it  has  one-third 
more  of  population.  Only  about  twelve  per  cent,  of  this 

[172] 


BOWS    AND    BALLOTS 

land  is  suitable  for  cultivation.  The  people,  therefore, 
are  crowded  together,  and  large  land-holdings  are  not 
numerous.  This  accounts  in  some  measure  for  the  few- 
voters  in  Japan  at  present,  because  the  franchise  was 
limited  to  men  at  least  twenty-five  years  old,  who  paid 
direct  taxes  on  land  or  on  incomes  of  at  least  fifteen 
yen  ($7.50). 

As  an  instance  of  a  result  of  the  operation  of  this 
law,  Tokio,  the  capital,  with  a  population  of  2,000,000, 
has  had  only  7000  voters,  or  one  to  every  285  of  the 
inhabitants.  Almost  all  of  the  men  entitled  to  vote  have 
availed  themselves  of  the  privilege.  The  "  kikensha," 
or  "  stay-at-homes,"  have  been  rare  when  compared  to 
those  in  some  of  the  elections  here  in  America  and  Eng- 
land. 

Voting  is  a  semi-private,  semi-public  act,  performed 
with  much  solemnity  and  no  disorder.  No  one  besides 
the  voter  and  the  inspectors  is  allowed  in  the  polling 
booth  while  the  function  is  in  progress.  The  inspectors 
are  the  Mayor,  or  the  headman  of  the  district,  and  two 
or  four  other  men  chosen  by  him.  They  may  be  all  of 
the  same  political  faith,  and,  if  inclined  to  do  so,  could 
manipulate  the  ballots  to  their  own  advantage  materially. 
The  law  says  nothing  about  bi-partisan  Inspection 
Boards. 

Another  opportunity  these  officials  have  to  help  their 
friends  along  is  in  advising  the  voter  how  to  vote.  They 
may  even  fill  out  the  ballot  for  him,  if  he  does  not  wish 
to  do  it  himself.  His  education  may  not  extend  to 
Chinese  characters,  and  not  caring  to  use  the  humble 

[173] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

syllabic  form,  he  begs  the  inspectors,  with  many  fold- 
ings, to  do  the  names  of  the  candidates  for  him  in 
Chinese. 

The  ballot-box  is  almost  an  idol  in  the  eyes  of  the 
newly  enfranchised  natives.  Indeed,  they  approach  it 
with  a  reverence  beyond  that  accorded  to  the  temple 
images  of  Buddha.  They  are  used  to  Buddha's  images, 
but  the  ballot-box  is  still  mysterious.  In  the  eyes  of  the 
older  natives  it  is  still  a  fearful  matter  for  a  private 
citizen  to  take  it  upon  himself  to  make  suggestions  to 
the  Government.  They  remember  that  in  former  days 
they  might  have  been  punished  by  death.  A  ballot  is 
certainly  a  suggestion,  and  so  the  old  men  stand  in  awe 
of  it.1  ' 

iThere  had  been  a  box  for  private  petitions  which  was  a  means  of 
communication,  at  one  time  in  the  olden  days,  directly  between  the 
Shogun  and  the  humblest  of  his  subjects.  It  seems  to  have  been 
essentially  for  private  and  personal  appeals,  however,  and  not 
for  the  purpose  of  making  suggestions  to  the  government  regarding 
matters  of  state.  Such  suggestions  would  lead  to  the  extreme 
penalty  whenever  made. 


[  174  ] 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-TWO 

THE  FLOWERS  OF  TOKIO 

IT  rained  fire  one  night  when  we  were  in  the  capital. 
The  air  was  full  of  flying  shingles  all  ablaze.  A 
beautiful  sight  to  those  with  tile  roofs  over  them, 
but  hardly  so  if  one  were  under  thatch.  "  Tokio  no 
hana,"  said  Okashi,  who  had  appeared  the  day  before 
to  ascertain  our  whereabouts.  Translated  literally, 
"  Tokio  no  hana  "  means  "  Tokio's  blossoms,"  translated 
freely,  it  means  "  fire."  Fires  are  the  flowers  of  Tokio. 
Any  Japanese  carpenter  will  tell  you  that,  and  the 
bigger  the  blossom  is  the  better  he  likes  it,  for  the  more 
work  there  will  be  for  him. 

The  carpenter  ranks  high  in  the  artisan  class,  and  in 
the  popular  mind  Daiku  San,  as  he  is  called,  is  still  above 
the  farmer,  next  to  samurai,  and  far  above  the  merchant. 
He  is  therefore  an  important  man,  and  when  he  is  happy 
it  is  well  to  rejoice  with  him.  Do  not  be  vexed  if  you 
find  him  purring  at  your  front  gate  as  you  rush  out  to 
notify  the  nearest  policeman  that  your  house  is  on  fire. 
Rather  tell  him  where  the  sake  is,  and  beg  aim  to  help 
himself  and  to  take  home  what  he  does  not  drink  as  a 
present  to  his  family. 

He  will  do  his  prettiest  in  building  a  new  house  for 
you  a  few  days  later,  and  describe  you  to  his  co-laborers 
as  a  man  of  noble  birth.  Thus  stimulated,  the  product 

[175] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

of  their  labor  will  be  excellent,  and  you  will  stand  well 
with  the  community.  In  Tokio  it  is  expected  that  a 
house  will  burn  down  about  once  in  seven  years  (in  some 
sections  once  in  three  years  was  the  rule).  There  are 
plenty  of  exceptions,  but  rents  are  calculated  on  this 
basis.  The  owner  reckons  to  get  his  money  back  with 
interest  in  that  time,  and  then  is  quite  ready  to  build 
anew. 

A  large  fire  in  Tokio  means  good  times,  and  a  picnic 
always.  The  first  thing  a  man  does  when  he  is  burned 
out  is  to  banquet  all  his  friends.  His  credit  is  good 
under  the  circumstances,  and  a  lack  of  ready  cash  is  no 
hindrance  to  festivity.  The  more  houses  he  has  lost  the 
greater  banquet  he  will  serve,  and  Daiku  San  will  be 
much  in  evidence.  He  will  assist  in  opening  a  koku  of 
sake  with  generous  dexterity,  and  will  stand  by  till  the 
last  drop  of  the  forty  gallons  has  been  distributed.  He 
will  aid  in  the  distribution  of  balls  of  rice,  neatly  rolled 
up  in  jackets  of  raw  fish,  assuring  each  guest  in  turn 
that  there  is  nothing  like  the  fires  that  bloom  in  the 
spring,  and  that  in  Tokio  it  is  always  spring. 

Figures  do  not  lie,  but  in  statements  about  fires  in 
Japan  they  are  misleading.  A  "  griffin  "  reading  in  the 
Mail  of  a  fire  of  one  hundred  houses,  would  think  it  a 
conflagration;  but  nothing  less  than  one  thousand  is  a 
conflagration  in  the  Mikado's  Empire,  and  a  thousand 
make  only  a  small  one. 

Bishop  Williams  of  the  American  Episcopal  Church 
looked  out  of  his  study  window  one  pleasant  evening 
watching  a  fire  two  miles  away,  and  then  retired  to  dream 

[176] 


THE    FLOWERS    OF    TOKIO 

that  the  inevitable  festivities  of  the  morrow  were  inter- 
fering with  his  mission  services.  Three  hours  later  his 
boy  aroused  him  with  the  words,  "  Conflagration's  wrath 
encroaches  precipitately,"  and  the  good  Bishop  escaped 
in  a  robe  not  prescribed  by  canon.  His  dreams  were  all 
too  true.  Eighteen  thousand  houses  disappeared  in 
smoke,  and  Tokio  was  on  a  spree  for  two  weeks.  The 
greatest  fire  of  all  was  away  back  in  1557,  when  over 
one  hundred  thousand  people  lost  their  lives. 

Houses  in  Japan,  however,  signify  less  than  in  Eng- 
land. They  are  really  roofs  on  pegs.  The  walls  are 
sliding  doors — "  amado  "  on  the  outside,  along  the  outer 
edge  of  the  "  engawa  "  or  verandas ;  "  shoji  "  along  the 
inner  edge,  which  shut  off  the  engawa  from  the  living- 
rooms  ;  and  "  karakami  "  or  fusuma,  which  are  the  divi- 
sions between  living-rooms.  All  these  can  be  lifted  out 
of  their  grooves  easily  and  carried  off.  Even  the  tatami 
are  not  fastened  down.  They  hold  their  place  without 
nails  or  other  fastening  because  they  fit  the  floor-space 
exactly,  and  there  is  not  room  for  them  to  move,  and 
they  can  be  hurried  away  if  there  is  a  half-hour's 
warning. 

All  but  the  poorest  houses  have  "  kura,"  alleged  fire- 
proof buildings,  near  at  hand,  into  which  everything  of 
value  may  be  stored  away.  These  kura  are  of  mud, 
plaster,  and  tile,  and  look  to  be  impervious  to  heat ;  but 
the  radiance  of  "  Tokio  no  hana  "  is  often  too  much  for 
them,  and  they  crumble  into  dust. 

The  Japanese  fire  engine  is  used  to  throw  water  on  the 
firemen,  not  on  the  fire.  That  would  be  an  utter  waste. 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Few  of  the  pumps,  which  generally  are  worked  by  man 
power,  throw  more  of  a  stream  than  ordinary  garden 
hose — just  about  enough  to  keep  the  firemen  soppy  and 
steaming. 

With  his  heavily  padded  "  kimono,"  short  in  the  skirt 
and  bound  to  his  waist,  like  a  Norfolk  jacket,  his  com- 
bination of  tights  and  leggings,  his  blue  mitts  and 
pointed  hood,  and  his  long,  barbed  pole,  Hitashi,  the 
fireman,  prances  about  in  the  smoke  and  the  glare  of  the 
flames,  pulling  down  everything  to  clear  a  path  to  lee- 
ward and  so  starve  the  fire.  He  looks  like  a  devil,  but 
he  is  only  an  acrobat. 

Whenever  there  is  a  lull  he  will  perform  on  a  bamboo 
ladder — standing  on  his  head  on  the  top  rung,  and  doing 
other  difficult  feats.  He  will  be  in  for  the  picnic,  too, 
along  with  the  carpenter.  On  January  4  each  year  the 
firemen  give  a  grand  parade  in  Tokio,  and  do  their  clever 
tricks  at  frequent  halting-places  along  the  route. 

The  combination  of  kerosene  lamp  and  earthquake 
produces  many  "  Tokio  no  hana  "  and  similar  blossoms 
in  other  parts  of  Japan.  Instinctively  everyone  runs  to 
the  lamps  when  the  house  begins  to  shake.  Another 
cause  of  fire  is  the  lucifer  match,  still  in  use  among  the 
poorer  people. 

A  record  of  Tokio  fires  in  the  last  two  hundred  and 
seventy  years  shows  the  district  where  they  are  most 
prevalent.  This  is  called  the  fire  district,  and  within  its 
boundary  shingle  roofs  are  prohibited.  Tin  roofs  are 
not  yet  introduced.  But  Tokio's  future  regarding  her 
famous  blossoms  will  be  much  safer,  if  less  picturesque, 

[178] 


THE    FLOWERS    OF    TOKIO 

thanks  to  the  excellent  work  done  by  the  late  Professor 
W.  K.  Burton  of  the  Japanese  Home  Office,  who  devised 
an  excellent  system  of  waterworks,  with  extensive  pipe- 
lines and  frequent  hydrants.  The  foreign  style  of  fire 
engine  has  appeared  also,  with  a  stream  strong  enough 
to  destroy  the  average  native  house  more  quickly  than 
the  blossom  of  Tokio,  working  in  combination  with  the 
steaming  acrobat.  This  combination  may  be  a  legend 
some  day,  but  it  is  still  in  evidence. 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-THREE 

IN  TRADE 

IT  was  odd  to  us  that  the  "  shraff  "  should  be  in- 
variably Chinese,  but  he  was.  Whenever  we  had 
occasion  to  call  at  a  foreign  counting-house  in 
Yokohama,  Nagasaki,  Kobe,  or  wherever  it  might  be, 
the  man  that  counted  the  money  was  a  long-cued  Celes- 
tial in  flowing  robes,  never  a  short-haired,  frock-coated 
subject  of  the  Mikado.  And  this  in  Japan ! — where  the 
natives  had  held  all  China  in  contempt  until  they 
whipped  her  so  soundly  and  speedily  that  the  contempt 
changed  into  pity ! 

"  Why  is  it? "  asked  Gardner.  "  Can't  Japanese 
count? " 

Okashi  said  they  could  count  well  enough,  but  that 
Japanese  gentlemen  (samurai  like  himself)  abhorred  the 
touch  of  money,  and  no  other  class  could  be  trusted  to 
count  it  honestly. 

We  knew  that  our  precious  landlord's  dislike  of  the 
medium  of  exchange  would  not  allow  money  to  remain 
near  him  if  there  were  any  possible  way  of  getting  rid 
of  it,  but  we  did  not  know  that  he  could  count.  There 
was  truth  in  what  he  said,  however.  His  statement 
merely  lacked  comprehensiveness. 

When  Gardner  asked  an  English  friend  about  the 
shraff s,  the  man  replied: 

C 


IN    TRADE 

"  Yes,  we  have  the  Chinaman  every  time,  if  we  can 
get  him.  We  can  trust  him.  We  can't  trust  the 
natives.  We  have  tried  them  and  it  doesn't  do.  Come 
over  to  the  go-downs  and  I'll  show  you  something. 

"  There,"  he  said,  when  we  had  reached  the  ware- 
houses, "  those  three  buildings  are  half-full  of  stuff 
one  or  other  of  us  has  got  from  home,  on  positive  orders. 
They  would  be  full  up,  if  we  had  not  given  a  lot  of 
machinery  away  to  make  room  for  other  goods  that  had 
to  come  in  out  of  the  rain.  The  men  who  gave  us  the 
orders  are  among  the  richest  merchants  in  Yokohama, 
but  while  the  goods  were  on  the  way  they  changed  their 
minds,  or  exchange  went  against  them.  That  left  the 
orders  on  our  hands. 

"  Now  a  Chinaman  would  not  have  treated  us  that 
way.  He  would  take  what  he  had  ordered,  even  if  he 
lost  by  it,  because  he  would  be  unwilling  to  *  lose  his 
face ' — that  is,  his  credit. 

"  When  I  was  first  over,  a  Japanese  merchant  whom  I 
had  met  several  times  pleasantly,  and  had  had  some 
small  business  dealings  with  in  London,  wanted  a  thou- 
sand bolts  of  flannel.  I  gave  him  the  price,  which  he 
said  was  satisfactory,  and  then  I  cabled  for  the  goods. 
A  few  days  later  he  came  in  and  said  he  wanted  a  dozen 
cows.  I  told  him  that  cows  weren't  much  in  my  line, 
but  I  knew  an  agent  in  Seattle  who  could  get  him  twelve 
hundred  if  he  wished.  We  talked  over  the  price  he  was 
willing  to  pay,  and  incidentally  I  remarked  that  I  had  re- 
ceived word  from  home  that  the  flannel  was  on  the 
way. 

[181] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

"  '  Yes,'  he  said ;  '  but  now  I  do  not  wish  flannel ;  I 
need  cows.' 

"  '  You  do  not  mean  cows  instead  of  flannel  ?  ' 

" '  Yes.' 

"  *  But  I  have  ordered  the  flannel.  It  is  already  on 
the  way.  It  is  too  late  to  change.' 

"  '  Probably  that  may  be  so,'  he  replied,  '  but  as  I  do 
not  desire  the  flannel  I  hope  you  will  obtain  cows  in- 
stead.' 

"  I  did  not  order  cows,  but  the  flannel  came  promptly 
enough.  I  have  part  of  it  still.  The  rest  I  sold  at  a 
loss  of  twenty-five  per  cent,  to  the  very  man  I  had  ordered 
it  for  in  the  first  place.  No  one  else  would  touch  it. 
To  all  that  I  said  to  him  he  only  answered,  '  Shikataga 
nai,'  which  means  '  doing  way  is  not,' — or,  '  the  joke  is 
on  you.'  It  was  a  good  lesson  for  me,  just  what  I  needed 
to  fit  me  for  business  over  here.  Why,  my  present  part- 
ner has  been  here  twenty-five  years  and  says  he  hasn't 
found  a  man  he  can  trust  yet — that  is,  among  the 
natives. 

"  Here's  a  good  instance,  right  here  in  your  Things 
Japanese.  I  knew  the  parties,  and  Professor  Cham- 
berlain has  stated  the  case  accurately. 

"  Kimura  is  rich.  He  used  to  be  the  manager  of  the 
Yokohama  Specie  Bank.  When  this  happened  he  was 
a  director,  and  even  now  he  is  president  of  the  Yokohama 
Guild.  So  you  can  see  his  Japanese  standing  is  good. 
Just  let  me  read  you  this.  It  is  a  fair  sample: 

"  '  May  29,  1894.  Messrs.  Comes  &  Co.,  of  Yoko- 
hama, sold  to  Mr.  Kimura  Reimon,  for  delivering  in 

[182] 


IN    TRADE 

September  and  October,  one  hundred  bales  of  yarn, 
4  Purple  Hokuroku  '  quality,  but  to  be  marked  with  a  red 
ticket  instead  of  a  purple.  On  arrival  of  the  goods, 
Mr.  Kimura  refused  to  take  delivery  on  the  plea  of 
difference  of  color  in  the  ticket.  These  tickets  are  the 
ordinary  marks  the  trade  uses  in  distinguishing  grades 
and  qualities. 

"  Finding  it  impossible  to  get  him  to  make  a  settle- 
ment of  any  kind,  Messrs.  Cornes  &  Co.  decided  to  take 
the  case  into  court ;  but,  before  doing  so,  they,  for 
reasons  peculiar  to  this  country,  placed  a  statement  of 
the  dispute  before  the  Yarn  Traders'  Guild  of  Yoko- 
hama. This  body  replied  that  another  application 
should  be  made  by  the  firm  to  Mr.  Kimura,  failing  which 
it  would  endeavor  to  bring  the  two  parties  together,  and, 
failing  that  again,  the  case  might  be  filed.  Upon  this 
Mr.  Kimura  was  again  approached.  He  asked  for  time 
to  consider,  and  was  given  until  March  10.  No  reply 
having  been  received  by  March  15,  and  Messrs.  Cornes 
being  anxious  to  avoid  litigation,  they  requested  the  per- 
sonal intervention  of  three  prominent  members  of  the 
Guild.  But  Mr.  Kimura  refused  even  to  discuss  the 
matter  with  them.  The  case  was  at  length  taken  into 
court. 

" '  After  several  hearings,  beginning  on  May  16, 
before  Judge  Akiyama  and  two  assistants,  judgment 
was  postponed  at  the  request  of  defendant  till  July  9. 
Three  days  before  this  term,  namely,  on  July  6,  the 
standing  committee  of  the  Guild  waited  on  the  foreign 
firm  to  inform  them  that  unless  they  agreed  to  withdraw 

[183] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

the  suit  and  accept  as  a  settlement  the  delivery  of  thirty- 
five  bales  (canceling  the  sale  of  the  remaining  sixty-five 
bales)  at  contract  price,  and  waive  all  charges,  no  dealer 
would  be  allowed  to  call  at  their  office.  Messrs.  Cornes 
declined  these  terms,  but  on  the  following  day  (July  7) 
offered  to  withdraw  the  suit,  provided  Mr.  Kimura  would 
take  delivery  of  fifty  bales  at  contract  price,  and  pay 
half  interest  and  fire  assurance.  These  offers  the  Guild 
declined.  Judgment  was  delivered  on  July  9  to  the 
following  effect: 

"  i  Defendant  to  take  delivery  of  the  hundred  bales, 
and  to  pay  the  sum  of  $29,528.59,  together  with  in- 
surance ($837.70),  interest  ($139-61),  and  go-down 
rent  ($112),  minus  ninety  days  usually  allowed  pending 
delivery.' 

"  '  On  July  18  a  general  meeting  of  the  Yokohama 
Guild  was  held,  with  the  result  that  Mr.  Kimura's  action 
was  fully  indorsed,  and  Messrs.  Cornes  condemned  to  a 
boycott  in  which  the  dealers  in  Tokio,  Nagoya,  and  other 
important  towns  were  to  be  asked  to  join.  The  next 
incident  was  a  visit  to  Messrs.  Cornes  by  representatives 
of  the  Tokio  Guild,  who  came  to  say  that  they  were  deter- 
mined to  settle  the  dispute,  and  that  unless  their  arbitra- 
tion were  accepted  they  would  join  the  boycott.  Messrs. 
Cornes,  having  previously  ascertained  from  an  eminent 
Japanese  lawyer  that  Japanese  law  could  afford  them  no 
redress,  were  compelled  to  accept  the  Tokio  Guild's  offer 
of  arbitration,  and  were  thereupon  informed  that  Mr. 
Kimura  would  take  delivery  within  sixty  days  of  the 
hundred  bales  at  $93^/2  Per  picul,  the  foreign  firm  to 

[184] 


IN    TRADE 

pay  their  own  legal  expenses.  This,  which  meant  a  loss 
of  over  $2500,  had  perforce  to  be  submitted  to.' 

"  Now  that  is  the  sort  of  thing  that  happens  every 
time  a  foreigner  tries  to  force  a  native.  The  native  has 
all  the  advantage  on  his  side,  and  he  uses  it." 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  merchants  unite  against  the 
Guild — boycott  the  boycotters  ?  "  asked  Gardner. 

"  There  are  too  many  kinds  of  us,"  was  the  reply, 
"  and  only  one  kind  of  native.  You  can't  do  much 
uniting  in  a  community  that  is  Chinese,  English,  Ameri- 
can, German,  French,  Italian,  Portuguese,  Dutch, 
Indian,  Parsee,  and  what  not.  Even  the  white  for- 
eigners can't  keep  together.  If  we  were  only  English 
and  Americans  we  could  accomplish  something,  but  when 
it  comes  to  getting  Frenchmen  to  stand  shoulder  to 
shoulder  with  Germans — ausgespielt!  " 

We  got  pretty  much  the  same  story  from  every  mer- 
chant that  we  spoke  to.  Some  of  them  would  allow  the 
Japanese  merchants  no  sense  of  business  decency  what- 
ever, while  others  said  it  was  not  so  much  actual  dis- 
honesty as  total  ignorance  of  the  principles  of  trade,  and 
no  idea  of  the  value  of  credit. 

The  Japanese,  on  the  other  hand,  told  us  that  it  was 
not  their  fault,  for  they  had  not  enough  capital  to  take 
great  risks  or  to  wait  long  for  things  to  come  from 
Europe.  One  man  said: 

"  It  is  very  hard  to  take  things  that  we  do  not  need. 
It  is  not  our  fault  that  the  foreign  merchant  has  to  order 
things  from  a  long  way  off.  Nor  is  it  our  fault  if  ex- 
change varies.  Why  should  we  lose  money  by  such 

[185] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

causes?  Then,  too,  when  we  began  to  trade  with  for- 
eigners they  sold  us  many  worthless  things.  We  could 
not  judge  values  of  imports  in  the  early  days  of  foreign 
intercourse.  We  trusted  foreign  merchants,  and  they 
took  advantage  of  our  ignorance.  Now  they  are  suffer- 
ing from  the  bad  examples  they  set  us." 

It  is  probably  true  that  those  samurai  who  tried  to 
be  merchants  after  the  break-up  of  the  feudal  system 
were  soon  in  a  bad  way.  They  trusted  foreign  agents 
implicitly,  with  sad  results.  It  was  not  only  the  for- 
eigner, however.  Merchants  of  their  own  race  treated 
them  badly.  There  have  been  many  queer  instances  of 
these  business  methods.  Some  of  them  show  that  a 
native  can  "  do  "  another  native  as  complacently  as  he 
can  do  a  foreigner.  One  lager  beer  brewing  company, 
for  instance,  which  does  an  enormous  business,  abstained 
a  long  time  from  paying  dividends  because  it  needed  the 
money  for  bottles  which  had  to  be  imported.  The  direc- 
tors, as  individuals,  bought  the  bottles  and  sold  them  to 
the  company.  The  stockholders  paid,  and  the  individ- 
ual directors  pocketed  the  profits,  which  quite  ate  up  all 
chance  for  dividends.  A  native  told  us  that  the  bottle 
business  was  very  pleasant,  the  net  gain  being  about 
six  hundred  per  cent. 

Another  lot  of  directors  who  were  pretty  well  under 
the  control  of  one  of  the  wealthy  merchants  put  up  a 
hat  factory  under  American  supervision,  and  fitted  it 
with  the  best  English  machinery.  The  merchant  re- 
ceived $27.50  for  every  $5  he  spent  for  the  machinery, 
— so  the  superintendent  told  us.  The  merchant  had  the 

[186] 


IN    TRADE 

advantage  of  knowing  what  machinery  was  worth,  while 
the  stockholders  to  whom  he  sold  it  had  no  idea  at  all. 
Business  was  dull  on  account  of  the  low  duty  on  imported 
hats,  so  the  merchant  made  less  money  than  he  had  hoped. 
He  must  devise  a  plan.  What  his  plan  was  none  ex- 
cept himself  knows,  but  one  night  the  factory  burned 
down. 

The  fire  was  a  good  example  of  "  Tokio  no  hana,"  for 
the  whole  force  of  working  men  and  women  had  a  grand 
picnic  by  the  ruins  the  next  day.  There  was  no  limit 
to  the  sake  and  the  rice  and  fish,  and  other  things  that 
Japanese  picnickers  are  fond  of.  Then  the  directors 
ordered  a  new  set  of  machines  from  England,  and 
charged  the  company  seven  prices  instead  of  five. 

Japanese  courts  recognize  the  lack  of  business  sense 
and  training  on  the  part  of  those  who  appear  before 
them,  and  deal  paternally  with  the  contestants.  When  a 
breach  of  contract  comes  up  for  investigation,  the  inter- 
ested parties  go  over  the  contracts  and  agreements  care- 
fully and  explain  every  item  to  the  best  of  their  ability. 
Then  the  court  studies  the  conditions  under  which  the 
contract  would  needs  be  carried  out  if  the  contractor 
should  go  on  with  his  work.  If  it  finds  no  obstacle  in  the 
way  of  fulfillment,  it  decides  against  the  contractor ;  but 
if  it  finds  the  contractor  had  miscalculated,  and  would 
lose  money  were  he  to  go  on  with  the  work,  it  decides  for 
him,  as  manifestly  it  would  be  a  hardship  were  he  forced 
to  work  without  profit. 

The  court  communicates  with  the  man  who  let  the 
contract,  saying,  "  Oki  no  doku  Sama  "  and  "  Shikata 

[187] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

ga  nai "  most  graciously.  Then  it  suggests  that  he 
make  a  new  contract  and  give  the  other  party  a  better 
chance.  This  is  a  method  of  procedure  hardly  calcu- 
lated to  develop  business  acumen  or  the  courage  that  is 
so  often  necessary  for  successful  enterprise. 

Feudalism  had  much  to  do  with  the  disgrace  attach- 
ing to  trade — feudalism  and  the  policy  of  isolation, 
which  early  missionary  meddling  with  Japanese  state 
affairs  forced  upon  the  country  early  in  the  seventeenth 
century.  The  Shogun,  Tokugawa  lyeyasu,  was  in  con- 
trol then.  He  discovered  that  the  Dominicans  and  Fran- 
ciscans had  political  as  well  as  spiritual  ends  in  view. 
He  believed  they  were  advance  agents  of  Spain  and  Por- 
tugal, and,  being  adverse  to  having  Japan  become  the 
possession  of  a  foreign  power,  he  cleared  the  country  of 
Christians,  though  only  after  furious  persecutions,  and 
then  shut  it  up.  One  Dutch  ship  a  year  visited  Naga- 
saki, and  that  was  the  extent  of  Japan's  foreign  inter- 
course until  Commodore  Perry's  arrival  in  1853. 

During  these  years,  whatever  Japan  may  have  known 
of  foreign  business  ways  she  naturally  forgot,  while  at 
the  same  time  the  class  organization  of  society  continued. 
The  feudal  idea  was  that  the  only  honorable  men,  except 
scholars  and  some  priests,  were  military.  The  merchant 
was  at  the  foot  of  the  social  ladder.  He  had  almost  no 
rights  at  all.  Politically  he  was  a  cipher.  He  did  not 
venture  to  call  his  life  his  own.  His  wit  and  his  cunning 
were  all  he  could  depend  upon.  If  he  had  a  dispute  with 
samurai,  and  the  samurai  cut  him  down,  there  would  be 
one  less  merchant  for  the  next  census  to  report ;  the  law 

[188] 


IN    TRADE 

would  not  call  a  member  of  the  military  class  to  account 
for  trying  his  sword  on  a  mere  tradesman ;  and  anyway 
merchants  should  be  patient  and  respectful.  So  it  was 
that  society,  having  denied  honor  to  merchants  for  many 
centuries,  its  possession  became  valueless,  and  apprecia- 
tion of  it  disappeared. 

Now,  however,  there  is  a  serious  attempt  at  improve- 
ment, as  we  learned  in  talking  to  one  of  the  leading  men 
in  the  Japanese  Consular  service.  Gardner  had  quoted 
the  Cornes-Kimura  incident,  and  the  Consul  had  deplored 
the  conditions  that  made  such  a  thing  possible. 

"  We  are  working  hard,"  he  said,  "  to  show  merchants 
the  value  of  credit.  I  think  the  fact  that  the  Chinese 
have  good  credit  is  rather  shaming  our  folk  into  better 
methods.  I  sometimes  quote  to  them  what  one  of  the 
Hongkong  and  Shanghai  Banking  Corporation's  man- 
agers said  in  favor  of  the  Chinese.  He  puts  them  quite 
at  the  top  of  the  list  of  those  who  are  trustworthy.  He 
told  me  that  in  the  Shanghai  Bank  the  business  with 
Chinese  in  twenty-five  years  amounted  to  over  $1,600,- 
000,000,  and  that  there  had  never  been  a  defalcation,  so 
far  as  he  knew.  I  show  our  merchants  how  much  more 
business  they  would  do  if  they  had  credit,  and  I  make  a 
point  of  having  the  Japanese  merchants  abroad  give 
data  from  time  to  time  to  illustrate  foreign  business 
methods.  Besides  this,  the  Minister  of  Agriculture  and 
Commerce  is  sending  out  '  Jitsu  Renshiu  Sei,'  or  prac- 
tical trade  students,  whose  business  it  is  to  study  markets 
all  over  the  world,  and  report  to  the  various  Chambers 
of  Commerce  in  Japan.  These  .students  are  under  the 

[189] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

consuls  in  various  parts  of  the  world,  and  really  supple- 
ment their  work. 

"  This  has  helped  us  to  develop  our  manufactures  on 
paying  lines,  and  has  already  increased  the  nation's 
wealth.  With  every  recommendation  from  these  sources 
the  minister  has  coupled  the  strongest  possible  plea  for 
fair  and  honorable  commercial  dealing,  and  the  various 
Chambers  are  awaking  to  the  fact  that  credit  is  a  most 
desirable  asset." 

One  reason  to  help  explain  the  unfortunate  relations 
between  native  and  foreign  merchants  is  mutual  misun- 
derstanding. From  the  beginning  of  intercourse  each 
has  not  had  a  clear  idea  of  the  other's  ways  in  business. 
The  Japanese  looks  upon  the  foreigner  as  harsh,  and  the 
foreigner  looks  upon  the  native  as  a  rogue.  Until  for- 
eigners arrived  the  Japanese  knew  nothing  at  all  of  busi- 
ness methods  of  the  world  outside.  As  they  slowly 
learned  a  little  they  found  them  different  from  their 
own — incomprehensibly  different.  The  Japanese  in 
their  own  country  had  dealt  with  friends  mostly,  or  at 
least  with  acquaintances. 

It  was  the  custom  for  friend  to  oblige  friend,  and  even 
mere  acquaintances  did  business  with  some  little  cere- 
mony of  courtesy  and  politeness,  and  avoided  brusque- 
ness  as  much  as  possible.  Generally  they  did  not  press 
too  hard  if  the  friend's  need  were  apparent.  They  modi- 
fied the  contract  or  postoned  the  date  of  payment.  It 
was  courtesy  to  do  so,  and  even  acquaintances  expected 
it.  Custom  and  courtesy  determined  their  actions. 

That  a  contract  should  be  enforced  from  an  idea  of 
[190] 


IN    TRADE 

right  that  was  purely  abstract  did  not  occur  to  them. 
An  abstract  idea  of  right  that  produced  concrete  discom- 
fort and  unhappiness  was  a  thing  they  did  not  and  could 
not  approve.  That  a  man  should  do  a  thing  merely 
because  he  said  so,  when  by  so  doing  he  would  cause  per- 
sons to  suffer,  was  not  and  is  not  in  the  Japanese  code. 
This  is  one  difference  between  the  Western  and  the 
Eastern  idea  of  right. 

Another  cause  of  the  wrath  of  travelers  and  even  of 
foreign  residents  in  Japan  is  that  they  often  have  to 
pay  more  for  an  article  than  would  a  native.  In  the 
first  place,  the  native  takes  it  that  foreigners  are  rich. 
As  a  rule  they  live  more  expensively  than  he,  therefore 
they  must  be  rich,  and  if  they  are  rich  they  should  pay. 
For  according  to  the  Japanese  idea  it  is  not  right  that 
rich  and  poor  should  pay  alike.  There  may  be  one  law 
for  rich  and  poor,  but  not  one  price.  It  is  best  in  their 
view  to  sell  to  the  poor  man  for  little  or  no  profit,  and 
then  to  make  up  for  this  by  charging  the  wealthy  man 
more.  The  wealthy  can  stand  it.  If  they  object  they 
are  not  nice.  Their  hearts  are  hard. 

This,  too,  explains  how  it  is  that  in  some  shops,  even 
now,  in  Japan,  the  price  per  piece  increases  as  a  larger 
number  of  pieces  is  asked  for.  If  you  ask  the  price  of 
a  cup  you  may  be  told  that  it  will  cost  a  cent,  but  if  you 
say  you  wish  for  one  hundred  the  price  per  cup  will  be 
a  cent  and  a  half.  The  Japanese  mind  reasons  that  if  a 
man  wants  a  hundred  cups  he  must  be  able  to  pay  more 
than  if  he  wishes  for  only  one. 

it  is  not  business,  but  it  is  not  miles  away  from  some 

[191] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

of  the  ideas  of  the  Founder  of  Christianity.  Nor  is  it 
just  to  say  that  the  idea  of  credit  did  not  exist  in  feudal 
Japan.  There  was  good  faith  as  the  Japanese  under- 
stood it.  The  commercial  regulations  were  minute,  ex- 
acting, and  even  severe  in  the  punishment  of  roguery. 
They  were  too  restrictive,  in  fact,  for  they  went  far  to 
hinder  trade  between  one  province  and  another,  and  ham- 
pered breadth  of  view  and  wide  knowledge,  keeping  the 
dealers  confined  to  little  groups,  one  might  almost  say. 

But  in  spite  of  all  this,  one  house,  the  Mitsu  Bishi, 
arose  to  eminence  and  obtained  Government  recognition, 
so  that  it  did  much  business  for  the  state.  Socially  it 
was  far  from  the  foot  of  the  ladder  where  the  common 
run  of  merchants  were.  But  when  the  foreigner  ap- 
peared the  Mitsu  Bishi  did  not  wish  to  deal  with  him, 
simply  because  it  had  no  experience  of  foreign  methods. 
It  was  only  on  the  direct  command  of  the  Government 
that  the  company  came  into  commercial  relations  with 
the  "  Outside  Barbarians."  The  student  of  Feudal 
Japan  should  look  to  the  career  of  the  Mitsu  Bishi  com- 
pany for  much  enlightenment. 


[192] 


PAliOIiA    AT    TKMl'LK    HORUJIj     NAHA 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-FOUR 

DIVING  BELLES 

IT  is  odd  that  in  a  country  where  woman  counts  for 
so  little  there  should  be  some  households  in  which 
she  rules  supreme. 

"  Our  New  Woman  would  faint  with  envy  if  she  could 
see  the  way  some  of  her  Japanese  sisters  run  things  in 
their  homes,"  said  Gardner  in  one  of  his  discourses.  He 
was  talking  to  some  globe-trotters  at  the  Club  Hotel  one 
day.  "  She  would  realize  that  with  all  her  bloomers, 
cigarettes,  canes,  and  masculine  shirt  fronts,  she  is  yet 
so  far  from  her  goal  that  she  could  hardly  hope  to  reach 
it  in  this  life.  She'd  either  quit  living  or  come  to 
Japan. 

"  Yes,  I  know  it  sounds  a  little  strange.  Mrs.  Hugh 
Fraser,  Sir  Edwin  Arnold,  and  Lafcadio  Hearn  say  that 
the  Japanese  woman  is  the  gentlest  person  in  the  world, 
and  that  she  is  as  sweet  and  charming  as  she  is  mild. 
Sir  Edwin  Arnold  writes  about  the  '  three  obediences  ' 
— *  As  a  child  she  obeys  her  father,  as  a  wife  she  obeys 
her  husband,  and  as  a  mother  she  obeys  her  eldest  son.' 
That's  true  of  almost  all  the  women,  but  had  Sir  Edwin 
been  with  us  he  might  have  seen  something  to  make  an- 
other story  out  of. 

"  I  first  heard  of  the  Japanese  New  Woman,  who,  by 
the  way,  isn't  ai  all  new,  when  I  was  over  in  Noto,  that 

[193] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

little  peninsula  on  the  west  coast  that  juts  up  into  the 
Japan  Sea. 

"  I  had  been  knocking  about  there  for  a  couple  of 
months,  and  had  lost  my  identity  as  a  foreigner  alto- 
gether and  turned  so  brown  that  I  was  sure  I'd  never 
bleach  out  again.  I  lived  in  a  temple;  and  that  is  a 
point  to  remember  if  you  roam  off  the  beaten  tracks  in 
Japan.  Temples  are  better  than  hotels.  The  priests 
I  lived  with  were  of  the  Hongwanji  sect.  They  had 
wives,  and  their  wives  could  cook.  Board  and  lodging 
cost  me  three  dollars  a  month.  I  never  saw  the  country 
inn  that  could  do  better. 

"  Worshipers  from  every  part  of  Noto  came  to  this 
temple,  for  it  was  older  than  any  man  could  say,  and 
famous.  Through  the  good  offices  of  these  priests  I 
made  friends  in  many  conditions  of  life.  The  folk  I 
grew  most  interested  in  were  some  fisherwomen  who  came 
from  a  cluster  of  tiny  hamlets  down  the  coast.  In  trav- 
eling by  the  hill-roads  one  wouldn't  see  a  sign  of  this 
hamlet,  although  one  might  be  only  a  stone's-throw 
away.  This  was  because  it  was  hidden  under  the  cliff. 

"  I  noticed  these  women  at  the  temple  several  times, 
but  there  were  never  any  men  with  them.  Women  from 
other  places  came  with  their  husbands.  These  women 
didn't,  but  they  had  children  who  called  them  '  mamma,' 
so  I  knew  there  must  be  husbands  somewhere.  They 
were  handsome,  with  clear  skin,  bright  eyes,  and  rounded 
limbs  which  their  peasant  garb  scarcely  at  all  concealed. 
I  couldn't  understand  why  there  were  no  men  with  them. 

"  One  evening  as  my  best  friend  among  the  priests 
[194] 


DIVING    BELLES 

sat  with  me,  enjoying  a  feast  the  inhabitants  offered  up 
that  day  to  the  astral  body  of  the  dead  headsman  of  the 
village,  I  learned  the  reason.  My  friend  was  born  in 
one  of  those  hamlets,  and  would  have  been  there  yet  if 
his  mother  hadn't  said  that  he  should  be  a  priest.  His 
mother,  mind  you,  not  his  father.  That  sounded 
strange,  for  I  had  been  in  the  country  so  long  that  I 
had  forgotten  that  women  ever  expressed  an  opinion. 

" '  Yes,'  my  friend  went  on,  as  he  rubbed  his  hand 
over  his  shaven  poll,  '  it  was  fortunate  for  me,  because 
a  man  doesn't  have  a  good  time  down  there.  He  has  to 
stay  in  the  house  to  do  the  cooking  and  to  keep  things 
clean.  That  is  because  he  can't  swim.  At  least,  he 
can't  swim  as  well  as  a  woman.  Why,  my  mother  can 
swim  two  days  in  the  busy  season  and  not  be  used  up, 
but  my  father  would  be  tired  out  if  he  stayed  in  the 
water  six  hours. 

"  '  That's  the  way  the  women  earn  a  living,'  added  the 
priest.  '  If  none  of  the  people  could  swim  they  would 
have  to  go  somewhere  else,  for  there  is  no  other  work  to 
do  there.  These  shell-fish  that  you  like  so  well,'  he  said, 
picking  up  a  portion  of  the  offering  to  the  august  de- 
parted, '  come  from  there.  They  are  difficult  to  get. 
The  women  go  down  twenty-five  to  fifty  feet  after  them. 
While  the  woman  is  diving  for  shell-fish  the  man  is  at 
home  caring  for  the  house.  That's  the  custom  in  every 
household. 

"  '  Once  I  remember  a  man  got  drunk,  and  did  not 
have  the  dinner  ready  when  his  wife  came  up.  She  told 
her  friends,  and  they  pulled  him  into  the  sea.  Then 

[195] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

they  sat  on  him,  and  pushed  him  down  till  he  was  almost 
drowned.  He  was  crying  "  Go  men  nasai  "  all  the  time. 
He  wept,  and  the  women  laughed — all  except  his  wife. 
She  struck  his  head  with  her  hand,  and  called  him 
"  dara,"  which  means  "  lacking "  or  stupid.  When 
they  brought  him  to  the  beach  again  the  intoxication 
was  all  gone,  and  he  was  humble. 

"  '  People  in  Japan  generally  do  not  know  about  this 
place,'  continued  my  friend;  'a  foreigner  never  saw  it. 

"  '  One  day  when  I  was  a  small  boy  I  went  with  my 
mother  to  sell  shell-fish  on  Kashima.  When  we  were 
there  a  ship  anchored  off  the  shore.  A  boat  full  of  men 
with  green  eyes  and  white  clothes  came  to  land.  They 
took  my  mother's  shell-fish  and  all  the  pickles  on  the 
island.  Then  they  went  away.  Someone  said  they  were 
"  Rokoku  no  hito  "  (Russians).  I  don't  know,  but  they 
are  the  only  foreigners  most  of  us  have  ever  seen.' 

"  '  Does  your  mother  ever  come  here?  '  I  asked. 

"  '  Oh,  yes ;  she  is  coming  to-morrow,  and  I  am  going 
back  with  her.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  go  too?  If  you 
would  condescend  to  travel  in  such  rude  company,  and 
to  enter  our  unworthy  hovel,  we  shall  be  honored 
greatly.' 

"  '  I  should  be  very  glad  indeed,'  I  said.  It  was  quite 
too  good  a  chance  to  lose. 

"  The  next  day  his  mother  came.  He  said  she  was 
his  mother,  though  she  did  not  look  to  be  thirty  years 
old.  She  was  plump  and  graceful  and  merry.  On  her 
back  was  a  boy,  her  grandson  as  I  learned  afterwards, 
just  past  his  sixth  birthday.  She  had  carried  him  six- 

[196] 


DIVING    BELLES 

teen  miles  that  morning.  When  she  had  bowed  to  us 
a  half-dozen  times  she  took  a  dip  in  the  sea,  gliding 
through  the  water  like  a  seal,  and  then  entered  the 
temple. 

"  Then  we  all  seated  ourselves  in  the  guest-room,  and 
she  nursed  the  six-year-old  at  her  breast.  (Grand- 
mothers do  that  here  in  Japan.) 

"  She  was  going  back  that  afternoon,  she  said. 

"  '  It  will  be  moonlight,  and  we  can  be  there  by  ten 
o'clock,'  she  explained.  '  I  do  not  like  to  leave  the  hus- 
band there  all  alone.' 

"  I  flattered  her  a  little,  and  when  dinner  was  served 
offered  her  my  sake  cup  so  often  with  my  profoundest 
bow  that  she  said  she  would  wait  till  morning. 

"  She  woke  us  about  four  o'clock,  and  by  five  we  were 
on  our  way,  she  carrying  the  child. 

"  Before  noon  we  were  in  her  home.  The  tide  was  out, 
so  we  did  not  see  the  women,  who  were  in  the  water,  and 
were  hidden  from  view  beyond  some  rocks.  The  men 
were  at  home  doing  chores  in  a  shy,  submissive  way. 
Some  were  preparing  shell-fish  and  laying  them  on  the 
sandy  beach  to  dry,  while  others  were  grinding  buck- 
wheat flour,  of  which  they  would  make  '  soba,'  the 
native  substitute  for  macaroni.  Some  were  bringing  in 
faggots,  and  were  putting  in  order  the  square  holes  in 
the  floor  that  in  every  peasant's  hut  serve  as  fireplace, 
or  were  burnishing  kettles  and  doing  other  odd  jobs. 
No  wonder  my  friend  was  glad  he  was  a  priest. 

"  With  the  rising  of  the  tide  the  women  came  up. 
Even  the  older  were  good-looking.  They  had  pouches 

[197] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

hung  to  belts  about  their  loins,  and  in  these  they  placed 
the  shell-fish  they  found  upon  the  bottom.  All  of  the 
pouches  had  something  in  them,  many  of  them  were  full. 
As  each  one  came  out  she  emptied  her  pouch  into  a 
common  pile  on  the  beach,  and  one  of  the  older  women 
called  off  the  name  from  a  book,  and  made  a  mark  op- 
posite. The  marks  seemed  all  alike,  so  I  suppose  the 
women  were  communists.  The  priest  told  me  that  all 
the  villagers  were  in  one  company,  and  that  each  member 
did  the  best  she  could  for  the  good  of  all.  If  anyone 
grew  lazy  there  was  a  penalty,  but  it  had  not  been  used 
for  so  long  he  had  forgotten  what  it  was. 

"  As  I  stood  watching  the  heap  grow,  the  priest's 
father  came  to  us,  and  bowing  low,  said,  '  Honorable 
pardon  deign !  There  is  absolutely  nothing  either  to 
eat  or  to  drink,  but  please  honorably  condescend  to 
partake.' 

"  I  followed  him  into  the  house,  and  was  just  sitting 
down  to  a  banquet  of  many  shapes  and  sizes,  the  like 
of  which  I  had  never  seen  before,  when  there  was  a  com- 
motion outside. 

"  '  Nan  deshoka ! '  exclaimed  the  priest.  '  What's 
up?  '  *  Ah,  korario  '  (*  Come  here  ').  I  hurried  after 
him.  There  was  a  luckless  man  in  the  midst  of  a  mob  of 
women.  He  was  protesting,  and  they,  talking  all  at 
once,  were  heading  to  the  sea,  just  like  the  case  of  which 
my  friend  had  told  me.  The  man  was  ducked,  and  then 
laid  out  to  dry. 

"  '  Was  he  drunk  ?  '  I  asked.  '  Oh,  no.  That  woman 
in  the  tub  over  there  fell  in  love  with  him,  and  his  wife 

[198] 


DIVING    BELLES 

found  them  talking  together  this  morning.  Now  she  is 
telling  him  that  he  must  not  have  eyes  or  ears  for  other 
women.  He  will  be  careful  after  this,  for  he  doesn't 
like  the  sea.' 

"  The  woman  in  the  tub  was  burnishing  her  arms  with 
a  small  bag  of  rice  powder,  and  paid  little  attention  to 
what  was  going  on.  No  one  said  anything  to  her, 
though  she  was  the  cause  of  the  trouble. 

"  I  wonder  what  will  happen  if  the  shell-fish  become 
extinct?  " 


[199] 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-FIVE 

AMONGST  THE  GODS 

EING    in    the    temples,    as    we    did    during    the 
greater  part  of  the  time  we  were  in  Japan,  we 
grew  familiar  with  the  images  of  the  saints  and 
heroes  and  the  gods  and  goddesses  whom  the  temples 
honor.     This  familiarity  did  not  breed  contempt,  but 
gave  us  a  personal  interest  and  a  feeling  akin  to  rever- 
ence.    Certainly  we  could  reverence  some  of  the  ideas 
for  which,   in   Buddhist  minds,   those   strange   images 
stood.     The  gods  had  their  humorous  side,  too. 

When  pious  Japanese  are  ill  they  rub  Binzuru.  If 
they  are  very  ill,  they  ask  the  priest  to  hang  a  bib  about 
his  neck  or  to  put  a  cap  on  him  and  mitts.  Binzuru  is 
the  head  of  the  great  faith-cure  of  Japan;  a  sort  of 
Buddhist  science,  like  the  so-called  Christian  science  of 
America,  of  which,  indeed,  it  might  have  been  anciently 
the  prototype,  though  the  rubbers  do  not  call  their  rub- 
bing "  science."  But  it  is  fully  equal  scientifically  to 
the  orisons  of  the  ogygian  healers  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Pacific,  and  its  efficacy  is  similar. 

Binzuru  shows  the  effect  of  so  great  faith.  His  nose 
is  gone  and  his  abdomen,  his  kneecaps  also,  and  there  is 
a  great  hollow  in  his  chest.  The  process  of  his  wearing 
out — or  rather  in — does  not  worry  him,  however.  What 
matters  it  if  all  his  organs  go,  so  long  as  his  disciples 

[200] 


AMONGST    THE    GODS 

rescue  theirs  from  the  ravages  of  disease?  And,  besides, 
the  simple  faith  of  those  who  believe  in  him  is  agreeable 
to  his  contemplation.  Therein  is  his  reward. 

The  story  goes  that  this  far-famed  healer,  whose 
image  is  ubiquitous  in  Japan,  was  one  of  the  sixteen 
Rakkan  once,  that  is  one  of  the  perfected  saints  whom 
Buddha  chose  for  his  immediate  disciples;  but  he  back- 
slid a  little  in  a  way  that  shows  that  early  Buddhism 
looked  upon  the  female  sex  much  as  did  early  Christian- 
ity centuries  afterwards:  he  noticed  one  day  that  a 
woman  was  beautiful,  and  said  so  in  the  hearing  of 
another  perfected  saint,  who  straightway  reported  him 
to  the  Master.  Buddha  put  poor  Binzuru  down  a  full 
hair's-breadth  in  the  scale  of  virtue,  but  to  offset  this 
punishment  gave  him  power  to  cure  all  human  ills. 

Generally  in  Buddhist  temples  Binzuru  sits  outside 
the  chancel  because  of  his  unfortunate  remark,  but  he 
is  all  the  easier  of  access  for  this  reason,  and  is  probably 
as  popular  as  Jizo,  the  patron  saint  of  children  and  of 
travelers.  He  has  small  opportunity  for  loneliness  un- 
less he  wakes  up  of  nights,  for  rubbers  are  about  him 
from  the  first  opening  of  the  temples  doors  until  their 
closing.  Even  at  night  some  say  the  holy  images  com- 
mune together.  If  this  is  so,  what  a  wondrous  tale  the 
pigeon-hunting  owl  might  tell  of  what  he  sees  as  he  looks 
in  upon  the  sacred  precincts  on  his  rounds. 

One  finds  Binzuru  in  temples  of  all  degrees  of  wealth, 
and  of  many  sects.  He  is  on  good  terms  with  the  Kami 
or  Shinto  gods  and  the  Hotoke  or  Buddhist  deities.  He 
is  more  often  in  the  "  tera,"  or  Buddhist  temple,  how- 

[201  ] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

ever,  than  in  the  "  miya,"  the  Shinto  temple,  for  Bud- 
dhism is  the  popular  religion  of  Japan  and  receives  the 
Shinto  gods  into  its  pantheon  with  cordial  welcome.  So 
in  looking  for  the  Healer,  the  man  with  faith  and  a  pain 
he  would  be  rid  of,  does  not  look  with  much  expectancy 
beyond  the  gateway  of  the  miya,  in  shape  like  that  of  the 
Greek  TT,  but  goes  through  the  tera's  gate  with  con- 
fidence. 

We  watched  a  man  one  day  as  he  approached  Binzuru 
in  all  humility  and  childlike  faith.  How  gentty,  almost 
caressingly,  he  runs  his  hand  along  the  Healer's  side  and 
then  up  and  down  his  own !  He  was  badly  bent  when  he 
came  in,  but  he  walked  away  erect  and  grateful.  For 
him  Binzuru  is  far  better  than  a  plaster.  Just  by  the 
man  stood  a  woman.  She  was  well,  but  the  infant  in  her 
arms  had  trouble  with  its  eyes.  So  the  mother  stroked 
the  image's  old  worn  face,  her  hand  scarce  hiding  more 
than  half  its  eye,  and  then  touched  the  baby  lids,  say- 
ing, "  Namu  Amida  Butsu "  ("Behold  Amida  the 
Buddha").  It  reminded  one  of  Lourdes. 

Amida  is  Boundless  Light.  He  and  Binzuru  are  great 
friends.  His  image  is  not  far  away.  His  "  goku,"  or 
halo,  is  widespread,  typical  of  his  radiance.  Sometimes 
it  is  like  a  great  oval  screen  of  gold  behind  him,  but  his 
almost  certain  sign  for  recognition  is  the  position  of  his 
hands  lying  in  his  lap,  the  fingers  crossed  and  the  thumb 
tips  barely  touching. 

On  the  other  side,  so  near  that  the  babe's  wee  hand 
touched  him  as  the  mother  passed  with  her  infant,  cooing 
now,  is  Daruma  the  Abstracted,  or,  as  some  say,  "  leg- 

[202] 


AMONGST    THE    GODS 

less,"  who  lost  himself  in  contemplation  of  the  Infinite 
fourteen  centuries  ago,  and  withered  slowly  as  he  sat 
until  his  nether  limbs  dropped  off.  Looking  at  his 
features,  one  fancies  that  this  contemplation  is  still  in 
progress,  and  that  it  will  continue  until  all  beings  are 
united  into  the  Eternal  Absolute. 

It  is  Daruma,  by  the  way,  whom  legend  credits  with 
the  origin  of  tea.  Before  he  went  off  into  his  present 
trance  he  had  made  another  effort  at  permanent  con- 
templation, and  had  failed  through  falling  asleep  at  the 
end  of  the  ninth  year.  When  he  awoke  he  was  so  vexed 
at  his  eyelids  for  their  drooping  that  he  cut  them  off. 
No  sooner  had  they  fallen  to  the  ground  than,  lo !  they 
took  root,  sprouted,  and  sent  forth  leaves.  As  the  old 
monk  looked  in  wonder,  a  disciple  of  the  Buddha  ap- 
peared and  told  him  to  brew  the  leaves  of  the  new  shrub 
and  then  drink  thereof.  Daruma  plucked  the  leaves, 
which  now  all  the  world  knows  as  tea,  did  as  the  vision 
commanded  him  to  do,  and  has  not  slept  a  moment  since. 

The  "  Heavenly  Shiner  "  is  over  opposite  the  Daruma. 
Ama-Terasu  is  her  name.  She  is  a  most  important  per- 
sonage in  Japan,  for  she  was  the  mother  of  the  first 
Mikado.  One  of  her  images  is  so  sacred  that  only  the 
holiest  of  priests  and  personages  of  Imperial  blood  may 
look  into  the  room  where  it  is  kept.  The  image  itself 
no  one  ever  sees.  It  is  wrapped  in  a  silken  sack,  in  a  box 
of  chamaecyparis  wood,  which  rests  on  a  stand  under  a 
white  silk  cloth.  For  centuries  this  box  was  the  special 
charge  of  a  virgin  daughter  of  the  Mikado.  Even  she 
never  saw  the  sacred  relic,  for  as  age  began  to  tell  upon 

[203] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

the  silken  sack  she  put  a  new  sack  on  over  the  old  one 
without  undoing  it.  Before  she  did  this,  she  had  to  fast 
three  days,  to  bathe  three  times  each  day,  and  during 
the  ceremony  to  wear  garments  of  material  fresh  from 
the  loom — garments  that  no  one  had  ever  worn  nor  would 
ever  wear  again. 

A  Minister  of  State  lost  his  life  for  being  curious  as 
to  the  appearance  of  the  apartment  wherein  the  image 
of  this  Imperial  ancestor  reposes.  He  pushed  aside  an 
intervening  curtain  with  his  cane,  and  peeped.  A  young 
Government  clerk  in  Tokio,  Nishino  by  name,  hearing 
of  this  peep  some  months  later,  went  to  Ise,  to  Goku 
Temple,  the  scene  of  the  sacrilege,  to  confirm  the  story. 
Then  he  returned  to  Tokio  and  stabbed  the  Minister 
with  a  kitchen  fish-knife,  so  that  he  died.  This  was  Vis- 
count Mori,  who  had  been  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to 
Washington  and  to  London,  and  at  the  time  of  his 
death  was  in  the  Imperial  Cabinet  as  head  of  the  Depart- 
ment of  Education. 

As  affording  a  glimpse  into  the  Japanese  mind,  it  is 
interesting  to  note  that  popular  sympathy  was  alto- 
gether with  the  murderer,  whom  an  officer  of  the  Min- 
ister's household  cut  down,  striking  off  his  head  with  a 
single  blow  of  his  sabre.  The  newspapers  abused  this 
officer,  but  not  a  word  for  the  Viscount  nor  for  his  fam- 
ily, whom  Nishino's  act  had  plunged  into  grief  on  the 
greatest  gala  day  of  Japan's  history.  It  was  February 
11,  1889,  the  day  on  which  the  Mikado  presented  a 
Constitution  to  his  people. 

The  young  fanatic's  grave  in  the  Yanaka  cemetery 
[204] 


• 


AMONGST    THE    GODS 

became  sacred  as  though  it  were  a  saint's.  There  was  a 
great  pyramid  of  wreaths  on  it,  which  daily  pilgrim- 
ages replenished  till  at  last  the  Government  had  to  in- 
terfere and  forbid  all  ceremonies  there  except  by  rela- 
tives. The  assassin  is  now  to  all  intents  and  purposes  a 
saint,  for  though  this  happened  fourteen  years  ago  na- 
tives still  pray  to  Nishino  to  intercede  for  them  with 
Heaven  on  their  behalf. 

The  priests  at  Ise  tell  you  that  Ama-Terasu  was  born 
from  the  left  eye  of  Izanagi,  the  Creator,  just  after  a 
'"it  to  Hades,  where  he  had  been  to  see  his  wife.  Ama 
i  "1  trouble  with  her  brother,  the  Impetuous  Male,  Susa- 
no-o,  who  was  born  of  Izanagi's  right  eye.  In  her  vexa- 
tion she  hid  herself  in  a  cavern,  which  was  a  thought- 
less thing  for  a  sun-goddess  to  do,  as  it  made  the  whole 
world  dark.  The  other  gods  and  goddesses  came  to  the 
cavern's  mouth  to  coax  Ama-Terasu  out.  Ama  would 
not  come.  Then  they  danced  and  sang,  and  the  sun- 
goddess  ventured  just  to  peep,  when  one  of  the  gods 
held  up  a  mirror,  and  catching  sight  of  the  reflection  of 
her  own  lovely  face  Ama-Terasu  came  out  and  the  uni- 
verse had  light  once  more. 

Not  far  away  from  the  sun-goddess  is  an  eight-armed 
image  of  Marishiten,  whom  in  India  folks  call  Krishna. 
She  lives  in  Ursa  Major,  whence  she  oversees  the  sun  and 
the  moon,  using  two  of  her  arms  in  guiding  them. 

Within  speaking  distance  sits  a  sweet-faced  image 
whose  lap  is  full  of  children's  tokens,  dolls  and  bibs  and 
little  caps,  the  offerings  of  mothers  whose  children  the 
gods  have  called.  She  is  Kishi  Bojin,  Protectress  of 

[205] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Children.  Often  she  speaks  of  her  miraculous  conver- 
sion. Like  St.  Paul,  she  changed  from  an  enemy  into 
the  friend  of  a  new  religion.  She  had  determined  to  de- 
stroy the  Buddhists,  "  being  exceedingly  mad  against 
them."  But  she  turned  into  a  dragon,  and  gave  birth  to 
five  hundred  children  whom  Heaven  decreed  she  should 
eat — at  the  rate  of  one  each  day. 

Gautama,  the  Buddha,  taking  pity,  restored  her  to 
womanhood  and  taught  her  the  Doctrine,  whereupon  she 
entered  a  convent,  and  ever  since  has  been  the  protectress 
of  those  whom  formerly  she  would  destroy.  She  holds 
a  pomegranate  in  one  hand,  which  emblem  is  her  crest. 

Just  over  Kojin,  the  Kitchen  god,  whom  the  house^ 
wife  looks  well  after,  are  the  Sam-biki-Zaru,  or  three 
monkey  gods.  Saru  means  monkey.  In  combination 
with  other  words  it  is  pronounced  Zaru.  One  of  these 
gods  of  the  prehensile  tail  has  his  hands  over  his  mouth, 
he  is  the  Iwa  Zaru  or  Dumb  Monkey  god ;  another  stops 
his  ears,  he  is  the  Kita  Zaru,  Deaf  Monkey  god ;  and  the 
third  covers  his  eyes,  he  is  Mi-Zaru,  the  Blind  Monkey 
god :  a  good  trinity  these,  for  they  refuse  to  speak  evil, 
to  look  upon  it,  or  to  listen  to  it.  Mrs.  Grundy  does  not 
stand  well  with  them. 

There  is  an  image  of  Kompira  also,  who  has  especial 
care  of  those  who  go  down  into  the  sea  in  ships.  Some 
call  him  Kotohira.  For  centuries  he  was  a  Buddhist 
pure  and  simple,  and  at  one  time  so  eager  was  he  to 
bring  mankind  to  the  true  faith  that  he  took  on  the  form 
of  a  crocodile  with  a  body  one  thousand  feet  long,  pos- 
sessed of  one  thousand  heads  and  one  thousand  arms. 

[206] 


AMONGST    THE    GODS 

Thus  arrayed  he  made  many  converts.  There  was  a 
grand  Buddhist  temple  in  his  honor  at  the  foot  of  Zozu 
San  Shikoku  until  recently.  It  dated  back  nearly  twelve 
centuries.  Thirty  years  ago  the  Shintoists  came  into 
power  for  a  little,  and  claimed  this  temple,  saying  that 
Kompira  belonged  to  them,  for  they  had  worshiped  him 
since  the  world  began.  So  the  Government  let  them 
have  their  way.  They  tore  down  nearly  all  of  the 
ancient  tera  and  put  a  miya  in  its  place. .  But  the  people 
throng  there  regularly  on  the  tenth  and  eleventh  days 
of  October  each  year,  just  as  they  did  anciently,  for 
whether  Kompira  is  Buddhist  or  Shinto  is  a  small  mat- 
ter in  their  eyes ;  they  love  him  for  himself  alone. 

Monkeys  are  not  the  only  animals  natives  reverence 
in  Japan.  There  are  pink-eyed  horses,  alive  and  fat, 
within  their  sacred  stalls  just  inside  the  temple  gates. 
Those  who  desire  grace  give  these  pink-eyed  ones  a  shell 
full  of  beans,  which  the  attending  Doctor  of  Divinity 
supplies  at  a  ha'penny  a  shell.  Besides  the  horses  there 
are  Imari,  stone  foxes,  goddesses  of  the  fruitful  rice- 
fields.  Farmers'  wives  decorate  these  images  with  bibs, 
and  then  if  the  good  women  have  faith,  proper  seed, 
sufficient  water,  good  fertilizers,  and  the  right  sort  of 
weather,  they  may  expect  crops. 

Another  acquaintance  of  Binzuru's  is  Fudo,  the  god  of 
Wisdom,  whose  throne  appears  to  be  on  fire.  Appar- 
ently his  wisdom  has  not  made  him  happy,  for  his 
countenance  is  anything  but  joyous.  He  is  armed  with 
a  sword  in  his  right  hand  and  a  lariat  in  the  other.  It 
is  rumored  that  he  ropes  in  the  wicked  and  dispatches 

[207] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

them.  Emma  O,  sitting  opposite,  glares  quite  as  fiercely 
as  Awful  Wisdom.  He  is  regent  of  the  Buddhist  hells, 
and  receives  all  comers  according  to  their  deserts.  His 
attending  scribe  and  reader  have  kept  a  record  of  each 
soul.  The  record  is  true,  and  there  is  no  escape  from  the 
sentence  that  Emma  O  pronounces.  Tradition  says  that 
the  regent  was  a  great  Chinese  general,  whose  love  of 
truth  exceeded  every  other  love,  so  that  he  turned  his 
back  upon  the  throne  of  the  Heavenly  Kingdom  when 
his  legions  offered  it  to  him,  sought  out  one  whom  he  be- 
lieved should  have  it  by  right  of  birth,  established  him, 
and  then  retired  to  the  obscurity  of  private  life.  How- 
ever this  may  be,  Emma  O  is  the  patron  of  many  a  joss- 
house  the  world  over,  and  it  is  before  his  image  that 
Chinese  administer  their  most  sacred  oaths  and  make 
compacts  binding  by  chopping  off  the  heads  of  cocks. 
Despite  the  furious  faces  of  Fudo  and  Emma  O  there 
is  no  fear  upon  the  countenances  of  the  seven  gods  of 
Luck,  the  Shichi  Fukujin,  whom  Binzuru  looked  kindly 
on  before  his  eyes  were  rubbed  away.  There  is  the 
Honest  Labor  god,  Ebisu  the  fisherman,  whose  name  all 
drinkers  of  good  beer  in  Japan  must  be  familiar  with. 
He  has  just  caught  a  noble  bream,  a  fish  the  Japanese 
call  "  tai."  Next  to  him  is  Daikoku  with  his  bales  of 
rice.  He  is  richer  than  a  Trust.  The  Tokio  folk  are 
laying  out  a  pleasure  park  in  his  honor,  with  a  grand 
Daikoku  statue,  malet  and  rice  bales  included,  in  the 
midst  thereof.  Benten  is  a  lady,  and  is  musical.  She 
can  charm  snakes,  and  uses  one  to  go  about  with  instead 
of  a  motor-car.  Fukurokuji  has  a  long  head,  and  a  pet 

[208] 


AMONGST    THE    GODS 

crane  with  a  neck  almost  as  long.  Both  he  and  his  pet 
signify  longevity.  Bishamon,  with  his  spear  and  Pa- 
goda, in  protective  armor  like  unto  a  battleship,  is  the 
lucky  god  of  War.  Jurokujin  has  the  great  good  for- 
tune to  know  the  thoughts  of  animals.  They  come  to 
him  in  perfect  trust,  for  friendship's  sake.  No  menag- 
erie should  be  without  Jorokujin.  Singularly  enough, 
Hotei,  the  seventh  god  of  Luck,  who  is  supposed  to 
represent  good-nature,  is  stout,  one  might  say  fat,  and 
has  a  high  sack  of  sustenance  to  lean  back  against. 

Of  course  there  are  many  Shakas  in  this  temple  of 
gods — images  of  Gautama,  the  Buddha,  to  whom  ex- 
istence as  he  had  known  it  in  Far  Eastern  countries  was 
a  weariness.  Where  he  journeyed  to  and  fro,  human 
vitality  was  at  low  ebb  and  life  a  constant  struggle.  He 
sought  escape  therefrom,  and  found  it  in  the  knowledge 
which  contemplation  and  pure  living  give.  Having  con- 
quered all  desire,  the  illusions  of  the  world  revealed  them- 
selves to  him  and  he  was  ready  for  Nirvana,  but  he  de- 
clined to  enter  until  he  had  shown  the  truth  to  every 
other  living  creature  and  they  too  had  become  worthy  of 
the  great  reward.  When  the  others  were  safely  in  he 
would  follow  after. 

The  goddess  of  Mercy  has  many  images,  too.  Her 
name  is  Kwannon.  She  possesses  the  omnipotent  gem 
"  nyo-i-rin,"  and  has  the  Twenty-eight  Constellations  to 
wait  on  her.  Professor  Chamberlain  likes  Kwannon,  and 
knows  all  about  her  thousand  arms,  her  horse's  head,  her 
eleven  faces,  and  her  wondrous  gem,  as  well  as  about  the 
"  Saikoku  Sanju-san  Sho,"  or  Thirty-Three  Shrines, 

[209] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

sacred  to  her.  They  are  all  near  Kiyoto.  This  is  what 
the  Professor  discovered  as  to  their  origin: 

Many  years  ago  lived  a  famous  Buddhist  Abbot, 
Tokudo  Shonin  by  name.  Suddenly,  as  the  Japanese 
say  of  holy  men,  he  "  divinely  retired  " — that  is,  he  died. 
He  went  to  the  Underworld,  where  two  dignitaries  from 
the  court  of  the  regent  Emma  O  met  him  with  respectful 
salutations,  and  conducted  him  with  much  ceremony  to 
the  August  Presence. 

"  I  have  sent  for  your  Holiness,"  said  Emma  O,  "  be- 
cause I  know  from  the  piety  of  your  life  that  I  may 
trust  you  even  as  your  children  upon  earth  have  learned 
to  trust  you.  I  have  an  important  mission  for  you." 

Then  he  told  the  Abbot  of  thirty-five  places  the  god- 
dess of  Mercy  was  interested  in  particularly,  and  of  her 
labors  to  save  the  world.  In  her  great  love  for  mankind 
she  had  divided  herself  into  three-and-thirty  parts  or 
bodies,  and  each  of  these  bodies  had  become  the  guardian 
spirit  of  one  of  the  Thirty-Three  Holy  Places;  each 
Place  having  power  to  cure  one  of  the  spiritual  ills  that 
flesh  is  heir  to. 

"  At  present,"  said  Emma  O,  "  the  men  and  the  women 
of  the  world  above  do  not  know  of  the  existence  of  these 
Places.  They  do  evil  instead  of  good,  and  come  drop- 
ping into  hell  as  rain  falls  in  a  sudden  summer  shower. 
It  shall  be  your  work  to  inform  them  how  they  may 
avoid  this  horrid  fate.  Tell  them  to  make  pilgrimages 
to  the  Three-and-Thirty  Holy  Places,  and  then,  having 
worshiped  at  them  all,  they  shall  radiate  light  even 
from  the  soles  of  their  feet  and  shall  have  power  to  crush 

[210] 


AMONGST    THE    GODS 

all  the  hells  there  ever  were.  So  sure  am  I  of  this  that 
should  one  that  has  made  this  pilgrimage  backslide,  I 
myself  will  suffer  in  his  stead.  Here  is  my  seal  to  take 
up  with  you  as  a  testimony  of  the  authority  of  the 
message  which  you  bear." 

Now  while  Tokudo  had  been  in  hell  his  body  had  lain 
in  the  Abbey  three  days  and  three  nights,  the  priests 
thinking  he  might  return,  as  the  body  did  not  grow  cold. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  day  the  Abbot  awoke 
with  the  seal  in  his  hand  as  testimony.  Immediately  he 
and  his  followers  visited  the  Places,  erected  shrines,  and 
the  downpour  of  souls  into  hell  diminished. 


CHAPTER   TWENTY-SIX 

ON  THE  EARTHQUAKE  PLAN 

WE  were  up  to  dine  near  the  Imperial  Uni- 
versity in  Tokio  one  evening,  in  the  beauti- 
ful puzzle-pathed  grounds  known  as  Kaga 
Yashiki,  where  once  the  Prince  of  Kaga  had  his  palace. 
The  house  in  which  we  met  was  long  and  low,  all  but 
the  central  part,  which  had  been  the  Government  Ob- 
servatory in  the  early  days  of  the  University.  The  tele- 
scopes had  gone,  however,  and  instead  of  being  a  place 
for  the  study  of  the  movements  of  other  worlds,  the 
building  had  become  one  for  the  investigation  of  move- 
ments nearer  home — an  earthquake  laboratory,  as  it  were, 
where  these  uncanny  disturbances  made  records  on  the 
various  contrivances  a  famous  specialist  had  devised  for 
measuring  all  sorts  of  jolts  and  jars  and  palpitations. 
Their  capacity  for  notation  included  all  disturbances, 
from  the  upheaval  of  a  mountain  range  to  the  alighting 
of  the  most  careful  fly. 

Naturally  the  conversation  took  the  earthquake  turn, 
and  the  Professor,  our  host,  whose  home  was  in  the  build- 
ing, had  many  interesting  things  to  tell  us  on  the  subject 
of  seismology.  He  explained  what  a  "  quake  "  did  to  an 
earth  particle  during  a  seismic  disturbance,  how  it  moved 
east  and  west,  north,  south,  and  up  and  down.  He 
showed  a  "  track  "  a  colleague  of  his,  Professor  Sekiya, 


ON    THE    EARTHQUAKE    PLAN 

had  made  to  illustrate  the  movement.  The  track  was  of 
wire,  bent  and  wound  and  turned  about,  in  and  out,  till 
it  looked  like  a  skein  of  yarn  a  kitten  had  been  playing 
with.  To  follow  it  from  end  to  end  would  have  taken  a 
patient  man  a  week.  But  it  was  accurate  undoubtedly, 
for  the  Professor  and  his  assistants  had  worked  it  out 
from  thousands  of  seismograph  records  which  they  had 
collected  from  many  parts  of  the  world.  The  seismo- 
graph told  the  truth,  the  Professor  declared,  for  he  had 
tested  it  on  stands  he  had  built  especially  for  artificial 
oscillation.  The  record  of  the  seismographs  and  the 
known  oscillation  of  the  stands  corresponded  exactly. 

It  was  wonderful,  especially  to  those  of  us  who  were 
"  griffins." 

"  O  for  an  earthquake ! "  said  the  griffins. 

"  Well,  you  may  not  have  long  to  wait,"  said  the  Pro- 
fessor, who  has  a  reputation  as  an  earthquake  prophet, 
"  We  have  about  five  hundred  a  year  in  Japan,  you 
know.  One  may  be  along  before  the  evening's  over." 

And  he  spoke  truly,  for  the  servants  had  no  more  than 
brought  on  the  fish  when  the  floor  began  to  wriggle,  the 
lamps  and  pictures  to  sway,  the  windows  to  rattle,  and 
the  dishes  on  the  mahogany  to  clatter  about  like  a  lot  of 
frightened  turtles. 

The  Professor  had  just  made  a  remark  about  earth- 
quakes' construction  when  the  swirling  began.  He 
looked  round  at  us  as  though  to  observe  individual 
effects,  and  said: 

"  Here  you  are,  boys.  How  singularly  ti  propos.  I'll 
have  some  goods  records  to  show  you  in  the  morning. 

[213] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Meanwhile,  as  this  building  is  a  bit  old,  I  suggest  we  get 
under  the  table.  It  is  built  on  the  earthquake  plan,  and 
should  the  roof  fall  we  are  safe  there." 

By  the  time  he  had  said  "  there  "  all  of  us  were  there, 
riding  on  the  sealess  billows  of  the  floor,  which  creaked 
and  undulated  and  bumped  our  heads  against  the  table's 
under  surface,  and  rolled  us  against  its  stalwart  legs, 
and  against  each  other,  as  though  we  were  great  dough 
billiard-balls  trying  to  make  caroms  and  cushion  shots. 
These  were  the  sensations,  as  I  can  testify  after  compar- 
ing notes  with  my  companions,  but  as  none  of  us  had  on 
seismographs  I  cannot  say  that  I  am  dynamically 
correct. 

When  we  came  out  from  under  the  table  the  fish  was 
cold,  but  we  had  had  such  a  warm  time  we  did  not  mind. 
We  told  the  Professor  that  he  was  the  cleverest  arranger 
we  had  ever  known.  We  had  never  met  before  with  such 
a  happy  combination  of  theory  and  practice,  and  we  all 
said: 

"  Here's  looking  at  you." 

It  was  excellent  sherry,  an  additional  reason  for  not 
caring  that  the  fish  was  cold. 

The  Professor  lighted  a  cigarette,  and  as  the  entree 
came  on  smiled  and  said: 

"  Thank  you  kindly,  but  really  it's  only  this — any- 
one must  see  that  a  good  strong  table  like  ours  may  be  a 
protection  if  one  is  on  the  right  side  of  it — the  under 
side,  for  instance ;  and  as  to  the  earthquake  coming  along 
just  as  we  were  talking — that  is  not  so  extraordinary. 
Quite  often  my  friends  mention  earthquakes  when  they 


ON    THE    EARTHQUAKE    PLAN 

are  up  here,  and  in  a  country  where  there  are  fifty-one 
volcanoes  it  would  be  strange  if  a  quake  did  not  come 
opportunely  at  times.  Upheavals  and  subsidences  are 
going  on  all  the  time.  Half  Japan  is  an  upheaval ;  and 
off  the  coast  a  bit,  say  from  fifty  to  two  hundred  miles 
east  of  Sendai,  a  town  north  of  here,  there  is  one  of  the 
greatest  depressions  in  the  world's  crust  we  know  of :  the 
Tuscarora  Deep  we  call  it,  after  the  United  States  Gov- 
ernment vessel  that  discovered  it.  It  would  be  safe  to 
dive  from  the  top  of  Fuji  into  Tuscarora  Deep — at 
least  there  would  be  plenty  of  water  and  no  danger  of 
striking  bottom.  The  depth  is  over  24,000  feet — Fuji, 
the  highest  point  of  Japan's  upheaval,  is  12,400  feet,  so 
we  have  36,000  feet  between  top  and  bottom;  a  safe 
seven  miles,  I  fancy." 

"  Do  you  think,  Professor,"  asked  one  of  the  party, 
"  that  old  Tuscarora  dropped  a  mile  or  so  just  now,  or 
did  Fuji  shoot  up  farther  into  the  sky?  " 

"  Oh,  no.  Neither.  This  was  just  a  bit  of  a  rumble 
down  Yokohama  way,  nearly  twenty  miles  off,  where  the 
center  of  disturbance  is  for  this  particular  region.  I 
dare  say  we'll  have  a  recurrence,  and  to-morrow  we'll 
read  in  the  papers,  when  they  come  up  from  Yokohama, 
that  some  chimneys  are  over.  It  was  lively  enough  to  do 
that." 

Again  the  Professor  spoke  truly.  The  recurrence 
came,  and  with  its  coming  we  went  below  as  before,  and 
listened  to  the  ballet  of  the  dishes  overhead.  We  did 
not  stay  as  long  this  time,  however,  and  when  a  third 
shock  came  we  were  down  for  just  a  moment,  and  then 

[  215  ] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

only  from  force  of  habit.  We  believed  in  the  Pro- 
fessor's scheme,  however,  and  each  of  us  decided  to  have 
a  heavy  table  round  somewhere  so  long  as  we  had  resi- 
dence in  the  country. 

"  Another  point  for  you  chaps  that  live  in  foreign 
style,"  said  the  Professor,  "  and  one  to  remember,  is  that 
a  heavy  bedstead  is  a  good  thing.  If  a  quake  comes 
after  you  have  retired,  roll  out  and  under,  and  there  you 
are  safe  though  the  heavens  fall.  If  any  of  you  build 
here,  see  to  the  door-posts,  and  especially  to  the  lintels 
across  the  tops  of  the  posts.  Have  the  lintels  over  the 
windows  strong,  too,  or  else  do  not  have  the  windows 
directly  one  above  the  other.  A  row  of  windows 
running  up  a  wall  in  a  straight  line  is  like  the  holes  in 
a  sheet  of  postage-stamps.  When  the  quake  comes, 
there's  where  the  wall  will  tear,  right  up  and  down  along 
that  row  of  windows." 

We  all  agreed  to  follow  the  Professor's  advice  faith- 
fully. Personally  I  can  say  that  I  have  never  put  up 
walls  since  that  in  the  least  suggested  postage-stamp 
construction.  The  Professor  gave  us  some  further  tips, 
too,  which  some  of  us  found  of  great  value  later  on. 
One  man,  a  Japanese  professor,  Kashikoi  by  name,  built 
a  house  in  Yokohama  strictly  in  accordance  with  the 
Professor's  instructions.  He  also  dug  a  trench  round 
the  border  of  his  grounds  about  six  feet  deep,  similar  to 
the  one  round  the  Engineering  College  at  Kaga  Yashiki. 
The  Professor  had  explained  to  him  how  this  ditch  cut 
off  surface  vibrations.  These  vibrations,  it  seems,  skim 
along  like  ripples  on  the  surface  of  a  pond  into  which  a 

[216] 


ON    THE    EARTHQUAKE    PLAN 

boy  has  thrown  a  stone  thinking  he  could  hit  a  frog.  A 
few  feet  down,  the  effect  of  this  kind  of  vibration  is  prac- 
tically nil.  The  frame  of  Kashikoi's  house  was  like  a 
broad  inverted  V.  A  neighbor  asked  him  one  day  if  his 
house  was  to  be  all  roof. 

"  No,"  Kashikoi  replied ;  "  but  yours  will  be  one  of 
these  days,  Aho,  old  chap,  if  you  don't  do  as  I  do."  And 
indeed  Aho's  roof  did  settle  down  upon  him  one  night, 
so  close  to  the  ground  that  it  took  an  hour  for  his  appre- 
hensive friends  to  dig  him  out.  It  was  only  the  shape  of 
the  roof,  an  inverted  V,  that  saved  him.  Kashikoi,  tak- 
ing advantage  of  the  Professor's  experience,  shunned  a 
cubic  frame  like  Aho's,  which  could  twist  to  pieces  easily, 
and  he  did  not  have  a  house  all  roof  either.  Only  the 
upper  half  of  the  frame  was  roof.  Along  the  lower  half 
on  each  side  he  ran  a  porch.  The  frame  of  the  porch 
looked  like  wings  on  the  V.  The  house  was  between  two 
porches,  and  as  thoroughly  protected  by  the  roof- 
like  frame  as  Aho  had  been,  only  much  more  com- 
fortably. 

Kashikoi  became  expert  in  chimneys,  too,  after  his 
first  failure.  He  had  an  interest  in  the  Yokohama  elec- 
tric-light plant,  and  had  let  a  young  Japanese  engineer 
put  up  the  chimney.  With  the  first  quake  it  fell  in  a 
heap  and  smashed  things.  Examination  showed  that 
each  brick  had  fallen  separately,  what  little  cement  there 
was  between  them  being  of  no  use  at  all.  Kashikoi  had 
the  young  engineer  up  before  a  committee  of  investiga- 
tion. Question  followed  question,  until  the  young 
native,  seeing  no  escape,  said  he  had  built  the  thing  with 

[217] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

non-cohesive  cement  purposely.  Had  he  used  the  Al 
article  the  chimney,  instead  of  sinking  into  a  heap  in  a 
comparatively  small  area,  would  have  fallen  in  a  rigid 
mass  extending  far  from  its  base  and  resulting  possibly 
in  the  death  of  unsuspecting  passers-by. 

Chimney  number  two  went  up  under  Kashikoi's  per- 
sonal supervision,  large  at  the  base,  knitted  together  with 
steel  bands  within  the  brickwork,  and  Al  cement 
throughout. 

But  to  go  on  with  our  dinner.  Over  the  coffee  and 
cigarettes  our  host  told  of  his  volcanic  experiences,  of 
climbing  miles  into  the  air  and  looking  down  into  boiling 
craters,  and  other  weird  tales.  His  journeyings  are  the 
most  comprehensive  ever  made  in  Japan.  Down  near 
Nagasaki,  the  chief  seaport  on  the  island  of  Kiushiu,  he 
found  the  largest  active  volcano  in  the  world,  Aso  San; 
yet,  in  spite  of  its  activity  and  the  terrible  eruptions  it 
has  had,  there  are  some  seventy  villages  inside  the  crater, 
v/ith  a  total  population  of  perhaps  20,000.  During  one 
eruption  Aso  San  destroyed  50,000  lives — literally  ob- 
literated them. 

All  conditions  of  men,  from  the  Mikado  down  to  the 
most  lowly,  have  made  offerings  and  prayers  to  pro- 
pitiate the  wrath  of  this  vast  volcanic  mountain.  Once, 
says  the  Professor,  the  people  heard  rumblings  and 
went  to  the  priest  with  money,  but  in  vain — the  rum- 
blings continued  and  the  priest  said  that  God  probably 
wanted  more  money.  Then  the  people  gave  again,  but 
still  God  did  not  grant  their  prayer.  "  He  thinks  you 
have  given  insufficiently,"  explained  the  priest;  so  the 

[218] 


ON    THE    EARTHQUAKE    PLAN 

people  gave  a  third  time.  Then  the  holy  man  beat  his 
sacred  drum  and  clanged  the  sacred  gong,  repeated  seven 
prayers,  and  informed  his  parishioners  that  God  advised 
them  twice.  First,  in  case  of  flood  run  to  the  hills. 
Second,  in  case  of  earthquakes  to  run  to  the  bamboo 
forest,  where  the  matted  roots  form  a  network  that  would 
hold  them  up  even  though  the  ground  should  open.  But 
the  people  went  away  dissatisfied,  for  they  had  known 
these  things  all  along. 

Then  the  Professor  told  us  of  the  most  extraordinary 
earthquake  phenomenon  he  had  ever  observed.  It  had  to 
do  with  the  very  table  we  had  been  sitting  about.  It  was 
temporarily  in  the  house  of  another  man  then,  while  the 
Professor's  present  house  was  being  put  in  order  for  his 
moving  in  from  another  part  of  the  city.  There  had 
been  a  dinner,  much  like  the  one  to-night,  said  our  host, 
and  after  the  dinner  a  little  game  with  a  kitty.  It  was 
a  quiet  little  game,  of  the  sort  that  relieves  the  mind  of 
all  sorts  of  worry,  and  is  restful.  Relief  indeed  comes 
to  anyone  sooner  or  later  if  he  will  stick  to  it.  It  is  one 
of  the  game's  strong  points. 

"  Well,"  continued  our  host,  "  we  had  relieved  each 
other  quite  a  bit  when  one  of  these  quakes  came,  rather  a 
lively  one,  and  the  party  disappeared  through  doors  and 
windows,  and  under  the  table,  or  through  the  floor,  for 
all  I  know.  When  the  rumbling  ceased,  we  returned,  one 
by  one,  from  various  retreats,  until  five  of  the  six  were 
back  at  the  table.  We  waited  for  number  six,  but  he 
did  not  come;  then  we  searched  for  half  an  hour,  I 
should  say,  until  we  found  him  in  a  wardrobe  of  the  most 

[219] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

distant  room  in  the  building.  He  was  so  upset  it  took 
more  than  was  in  the  soda  syphon  to  restore  him.  We 
got  him  round,  however,  and  resumed  our  seats  at  the 
relief  table,  but  the  kitty  had  disappeared.  We  never 
found  a  trace  of  it." 


[220] 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-SEVEN 

MISSIONARIES  AND  MISSIONARIES 

WHENEVER  our  roaming  along  the  byways 
of  Japan  brought  us  to  the  door  of  a  mission- 
ary home  we  went  in  and  found  a  welcome. 
There  was  always  room  for  two  more  at  the  missionary's 
table,  and  if  we  could  stay  for  the  night  there  were 
always  futon  enough  for  a  couple  of  extra  beds.  This 
hospitality  was  due  partly,  perhaps,  to  the  fact  that 
both  he  and  we  were  far  from  home,  partly  to  the  genial 
influence  of  Japan,  where  the  very  atmosphere  breathes 
welcome,  but  chiefly  because  the  missionary  himself  was 
a  good  fellow — a  man  living  pleasantly  and  setting  a 
wholesome  example. 

The  example  is  not  exciting,  but  it  is  as  an  example 
he  is  most  effective.  The  missionary  is  taken  seriously, 
as  a  rule,  except  when  the  Mail,  the  Herald,  or  the 
Gazette,  being  short  of  copy,  gives  him  opportunity  to 
point  out  in  print  the  weak  spots  in  the  creeds,  the  cus- 
toms, the  rites,  or  beliefs  of  his  brother  missionaries  of 
other  sects. 

The  Japanese  smile  at  him  then,  and  the  Buddhists 
say :  "  August  divergence  of  august  opinion  apparently 
existing  is  among  the  teachers  of  religion  from  the 
West."  Then  they  rub  their  polls  and  become  abstracted 
in  contemplation  of  the  Absolute.  The  Imperial  Gov- 

[221] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

ernment  likes  the  missionary,  and  the  Mikado  decorated 
one  some  years  ago.  Later  he  and  his  family  were 
granted  all  ths  rights  of  citizenship.  The  Minister  of 
State,  in  transmitting  the  papers,  declared  that  the 
Empire  was  to  be  congratulated  on  having  so  worthy  a 
man  within  its  borders.  When  this  reverend  gentleman 
was  presented  to  the  Court  of  the  Heaven-Descended, 
he  gave  his  Imperial  Majesty  a  Bible,  the  only  one  that 
ever  found  its  way  within  the  palace  gates. 

Like  other  folks  who  accomplish  things,  the  missionary 
comes  in  for  criticism.  He  expects  this.  Sometimes  he 
even  welcomes  it.  As  he  leaves  home  to  live  among  the 
"  heathen  " — a  word,  by  the  way,  that  he  carefully 
eschews  so  long  as  he  resides  among  them — the  older 
women  of  his  church  tell  him  that  his  noble  self-sacrifice 
awakens  pity  in  their  hearts.  Pity  there  is  certainly, 
and  admiration,  too.  These  are  comforting  to  him,  for 
to  the  missionary,  as  to  most  folks,  it  is  grievous  to  give 
up  home. 

But  after  he  has  lived  a  year  in  Japan  it  would  be 
more  grievous  were  he  ordered  to  return.  He  has  eaten 
of  the  lotus.  When  his  seventh  year  arrives,  and  he  is 
to  come  back  for  a  twelvemonth,  he  does  so  with  some 
little  eagerness  to  see  what  home  will  look  like  after  an 
absence  of  six  years,  and  with  a  joyous  expectation  of 
seeing  relatives  and  old  friends  again ;  but,  after  he  has 
seen,  his  face  turns  towards  the  Far  East  with  yearning, 
and  he  is  not  quite  himself  again  until  the  land  beyond 
the  setting  sun — or,  as  the  ancient  name  describes  it,  the 
Land  of  the  Rising  Sun — is  beneath  his  feet  once  more. 


MISSIONARIES 

The  Empire  he  has  sought  to  convert  has  converted  him. 
He  does  not  say  so,  perhaps  he  does  not  know,  but  it  is 
a  fact. 

The  missionary  is  an  influential  person  in  the  East. 
He  has  established  schools  far  and  wide,  several  of  them 
of  exceptional  excellence.  He  is  the  intellectual  father  of 
thousands  of  the  young  men  and  women  of  New  Japan. 
These  young  folks  do  not  all  profess  the  creed  of  their 
teacher,  but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  not  one  of  them  has 
failed  altogether  to  profit  by  contact  with  the  foreigner. 
The  young  man  may  still  be  apt  to  speak  what  is  not  so, 
probably  he  is,  but  at  least  he  has  learned  there  is  such 
a  thing  as  truth-telling — strange  and  wonderful  though 
it  is  to  him  and  of  doubtful  utility — yet  worthy  of  inves- 
tigation. To  accomplish  even  this  is  no  small  gain. 

Mission  schools  teach  everything,  from  chemistry  to 
knitting  socks.  They  represent  nearly  every  denomina- 
tion of  importance  in  the  world,  and  they  dispense  knowl- 
edge almost  without  cost.  They  are  a  boon  to  the  coun- 
try, but  sometimes  the  earnest  student  takes  advantage 
of  them,  and,  if  slang  may  be  allowed,  he  "  pulls  the 
missionary's  leg." 

Such  a  student  soon  discovers  that  he  receives  more 
attention  from  the  missionary  and  from  the  wife  if 
he  shows  signs  of  conversion.  Consequently,  at  what- 
ever school  he  enters  his  name,  he  begins  to  be  converted 
right  away.  As  he  changes  from  school  to  school — 
change  being  a  delight  to  the  Japanese — he  is  converted 
frequently.  By  the  time  his  education  is  complete  he 
is  one  of  the  most  converted  persons  in  the  world. 

[223  ] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Indeed,  it  is  not  impossible  to  find  a  member  of  the  Greek 
Church  who  is  also  a  Congregationalist,  a  French 
Catholic,  a  Baptist,  a  Unitarian,  a  Methodist,  a  com- 
municant of  the  Church  of  England,  and  belonging, 
possibly,  to  half  a  dozen  minor  mission  organizations. 

The  general  run  of  mission  students  are  as  religious 
as  the  average  American  youth.  Apparently  they  enjoy 
their  lessons  in  piety  thoroughly,  the  girls  in  particular ; 
but  they  have  such  gentle  natures  that  it  is  hard  to  be- 
lieve they  need  instruction  in  humility  and  meekness. 
They  are  themselves  living  lessons  in  these  virtues. 

The  missionary-in-the-cannibal-stew  idea  is  upset  by 
a  visit  to  the  houses  of  the  evangelists  in  Tsukiji,  Tokio. 
One  sees  there  that,  even  from  a  worldly  point  of  view, 
it  is  not  a  sad  thing  to  be  "  called."  So  long  as  he  is 
faithful  to  his  creed,  he  need  not  worry  over  worldly 
matters.  His  salary  will  be  paid  regularly  until  he 
resigns  or  passes  on  to  the  land  he  has  sought  to  prepare 
so  many  others  for.  He  will  have  a  home  to  live  in,  the 
mission  doctor  and  pharmacist  will  attend  to  him  and 
to  his  family  without  charge.  He  goes  to  the  mountains 
when  the  heat  of  summer  comes,  usually  to  Nikko,  con- 
cerning which  place  the  Japanese  legend  says :  "  Nikko 
wo  minai  uchi  wa  kekko  to  iuna  "  (  "  Until  you  have  seen 
Nikko  do  not  use  the  word  beautiful").  His  children 
may  be  educated  at  the  mission's  expense,  and  he  receives 
his  traveling  money  for  his  septennial  vacation  home. 

The  salary  for  bachelor  missionaries  is  about  $750 
a  year,  and  for  married  men  $1500.  When  one  re- 
members that  lodging  and  medical  attendance  are  found, 

[224] 


MISSIONARIES 

and  that  servants'  wages  are  low — cooks,  $5  to  $7.50  a 
month,  nurses  and  maids,  $4;  and  that  a  jin-riki-sha, 
with  a  man  to  pull  it,  who  finds  himself,  costs  $5  a  month 
— it  is  not  a  wonder  that  the  missionary  is  fairly  well 
content. 

Learning  the  language  is  the  work  the  missionary 
takes  hold  of  first.  He  must  master  the  colloquial,  in 
order  to  preach  to  the  natives.  Usually  five  years  are 
allowed  for  this.  He  may  take  up  the  written  language, 
too,  if  it  seems  advisable,  but  no  one  ever  learned  that 
well  in  five  years.  It  is  a  large  undertaking,  for  he 
must  learn  all  over  again  how  to  think;  the  mode  of 
thought  and  the  world  of  ideas  into  which  he  is  entering 
are  wholly  different  from  those  he  was  born  into. 

His  teacher  shows  him  that  Japanese  nouns  have 
neither  number  nor  gender;  adjectives,  though  not  com- 
pared, have  tense  and  mood  inflections.  There  are  no 
pronouns ;  verbs  do  not  have  person  but  have  a  negative 
voice,  and,  as  Professor  Chamberlain  says,  forms  to  indi- 
cate causation  and  potentiality.  The  written  language 
is  so  different  from  the  spoken  that  were  the  daily  paper 
read  aloud,  a  master  of  the  colloquial  might  not  under- 
stand even  the  general  import  of  the  article.  To  read 
the  newspapers  comfortably,  one  should  know  at  least 
four  thousand  Chinese  characters.  Some  minds  have 
given  way  in  the  attempt  to  learn  them. 

Still,  to  the  missionary  with  a  turn  for  original  investi- 
gation, there  is  an  infinite  field  in  Japan,  and  this  has 
saved  men  who  loved  intellectual  life,  and  found  little 
congenial  companionship  among  the  natives — history, 

[225] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Buddhism,  land  tenure,  philology,  and  the  intricacies  of 
the  native  family  relationship,  are  only  a  few  of  the 
subjects  that,  as  yet,  foreigners  need  light  upon.  But 
the  missionary  is  investigating  patiently.  Already  he 
has  enough  material  for  an  Encyclopaedia  Japonica. 
The  thing  he  has  to  fight  against  is  the  influence  of  his 
surroundings,  which  tend  to.  allay  keen  desire  for 
achievement  which  scholars  in  the  West  maintain.  In 
counteracting  this,  the  septennial  home-coming  is  a 
wholesome  tonic. 

On  the  west  coast  the  nearest  missionary  to  us  was 
at  Kanazawa.  When  we  went  there  we  fell  by  the  way- 
side, as  it  were,  returned  to  our  former  habits  of  life, 
sat  on  an  American  rocking-chair  and  slept  on  a  spring 
bed.  It.  was  a  sad  fall  from  the  floor  up  into  a  rocking- 
chair  and  on  to  a  spring  bed,  but  the  missionary's  hospi- 
tality was  as  difficult  to  resist  as  that  of  our  native 
friends  at  Tatsumi. 

One  of  our  Hongwanji  friends  was  with  us  on  one  of 
our  journeys  through  Kanazawa.  His  home  was  in 
Kiyoto,  where  he  had  studied  with  interest  the  work  of 
the  teachers  in  Doshisha,  the  Christian  college  which 
American  missionaries  had  established  there  over  twenty 
years  ago.  He  had  been  to  America  and  to  Europe; 
at  Oxford  had  attracted  some  little  attention  by  his  in- 
dustry in  history  and  in  philosophy.  I  believe  he  had 
been  a  student  under  Max  Miiller.  He  had  a  fine  ad- 
miration for  Christianity,  and  only  asked  for  fair  judg- 
ment. 

"  We  are  on  good  terms  with  the  Doshisha  folk,"  he 
[226] 


MISSIONARIES 

Said,  as  we  went  along  on  foot  towards  some  famous  hot 
springs  a  few  ri  south,  "  and  we  have  learned  much  from 
them.  Our  priests  have  gone  abroad  to  study  religious 
institutions  in  the  lands  where  this  wonderful  religion 
came  from.  Jesus  seems  to  us  much  like  what  we  call  a 
Buddha.  We  notice,  too,  that  Christianity  is  divided 
into  sects  much  as  Buddhism  is.  I  think  for  the  most 
part,  though,  that  our  sects  get  along  together  with 
less  friction  than  do  the  Christian  sects.  At  least  we 
do  not  criticise  each  other  in  the  newspapers.  Perhaps 
at  home  you  do  not.  I  was  only  a  student  when  I  was 
abroad,  and  my  text-books  took  so  much  of  my  time  that 
I  am  sorry  to  say  I  did  not  read  much  else.  I  have  seen 
rather  unpleasant  letters  in  the  Yokohama  and  Kobe 
papers.  I  do  not  think  the  Doshisha  folk  contributed 
any  of  these  letters. 

"  It  seems  unfair  to  me  that  we  should  be  condemned 
without  being  studied.  We  do  not  wish  to  keep  Chris- 
tian missionaries  out  of  Japan.  We  welcome  them,  for 
there  is  work  enough  to  keep  us  all  busy,  but  we  should 
like  to  have  those  who  come  over  to  teach  us  the  truth 
study  our  doctrines,  to  see  if  we  have  not  already  some 
of  this  truth  ourselves.  Here  and  there  a  missionary 
studies  Buddhism,  but  the  instances  are  not  sufficient  to 
make  a  large  percentage  of  the  men  and  women  who 
come  to  live  among  us.  How  can  they  expect  to  teach 
the  Japanese  people  if  they  do  not  understand  the  Jap- 
anese people?  and  how  can  they  expect  to  understand 
the  people  unless  they  understand  the  people's  religion? 
Why,  our  Foreign  Office  officials  study  Christianity 

[227] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

before  going  abroad.  That  is  part  of  their  diplomatic 
training.  How  much  more,  then,  should  missionaries 
of  religion  study  the  faiths  of  the  lands  they  go  to? 

"  The  good  work  that  Christian  missionaries  are  doing 
in  Japan  would  progress  more  rapidly  if  the  missionaries 
would  learn  the  Buddhist  doctrines  and  study  the  influ- 
ence these  doctrines  have  had  on  the  minds  of  Japanese. 
Whatever  there  is  of  truth  in  the  religion  of  Europe 
and  America  and  in  the  religion  of  Japan  must  har- 
monize. I  do  not  see  why  Buddhists  and  Christians 
should  be  at  war.  I  do  not  believe  they  are  at  heart. 
We  both  should  like  to  save  the  world,  and  we  shall.  To 
save  the  world,  however,  it  is  not  necessary  that  one 
party  should  annihilate  the  other.  It  will  be  more  in 
accordance  with  wisdom  for  each  man  to  do  whatever 
directly  helpful  work  there  is  before  him.  There  is  so 
much  to  do,  we  cannot  afford  to  expend  even  the  min- 
utest quantity  of  energy  needlessly. 

"  Look  at  China,  for  instance,  where  we  have  some 
missionary  interest.  We  may  have  some  hard  work 
there  before  Jong.  We  are  foreigners  there,  you  know, 
and  the  anti-foreign  feeling  is  increasing.  This  is 
partly  the  fault  of  greedy  European  Powers  and  partly 
the  fault  of  methods  in  missionary  work.  It  is  unfortu- 
nate that  religion  and  statecraft  should  be  mixed  to- 
gether, but  to  many  Chinese  to-day  the  foreign  mission- 
ary is  a  sort  of  advance-agent  of  the  gunboat.  Mis- 
sionaries come  and  provinces  go.  The  Chinese  look  upon 
this  as  cause  and  effect.  Sequence  in  time  is  logical  con- 
nection in  their  minds.  You  see  they  are  a  very  old 


MISSIONARIES 

people,  and  are  still  living  in  the  past.     They  know  little 
of  anything  that  is  less  than  two  thousand  years  old. 

"  leyasu,  Mayor  of  the  Palace,  early  in  the  seven- 
teenth century  thought  the  same  of  Spanish  and  Portu- 
guese missionaries  once,  and  ordered  them  to  leave. 
Their  refusal  to  do  so  led  to  a  massacre.  He  was  able 
to  forestall  foreign  invasion  because  in  his  day  Japan 
was  far  from  the  West,  and  the  military  abilities  of  the 
East  and  the  West  were  more  nearly  on  a  footing. 
China  is  powerless  to-day.  She  cannot  defend  herself. 

"  A  convert  is  likely  to  get  into  trouble  when  he  be- 
comes a  Christian,  unless  he  is  able  to  keep  up  a  double 
set  of  subscriptions.  To  keep  the  peace  he  should  pay 
sums  regularly  to  his  guilds  and  societies  and  to  the 
mission  he  has  joined.  He  is  often  too  poor  to  do  both, 
and  if  he  gives  his  money  to  the  mission  his  former 
friends  and  ,his  relatives  may  annoy  him.  Suppose  he 
is  forced  into  a  fight  and  is  taken  to  jail,  naturally  he 
looks  to  the  missionary.  The  missionary  sees  the  Ger- 
man or  French  or  English  Consul,  whichever  it  may  be, 
who,  in  his  turn,  writes  to  the  Minister  Plenipotentiary 
at  Peking,  and  the  Minister  goes  to  the  '  Tsung  li 
Yamen,'  or  Chinese  Foreign  Office.  An  official  of  the 
Tsung  li  Yamen  then  comes  to  the  governor  of  the  prov- 
ince in  which  the  convert  and  the  missionary  live,  and 
talks  to  His  Excellency  about  the  annoyance  of  foreign 
complications.  The  governor  proceeds  against  the 
mayor  or  the  chief  of  the  town  in  which  the  convert  is 
confined,  and  the  mayor  has  it  out  with  the  convert's 
accusers.  It  reads  like  the  story  of  '  The  House  that 

[229] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Jack  Built,'  but  it  usually  ends  badly.  The  mayor  is 
between  the  governor  and  the  populace.  He  will  have 
a  hard  time  of  it  either  way.  The  governor  is  afraid 
of  the  Tsung  li  Yamen,  and  will  make  trouble  for  him  if 
he  does  not  let  the  convert  go.  If  he  does  liberate  him 
the  people  will  conspire  against  him  for  favoring  an 
apostate.  Not  that  the  apostacy  enrages  them.  They 
would  forgive  that  would  the  convert  continue  his  sub- 
scriptions. They  need  his  money  and  are  wroth  with 
the  missionary  for  depriving  them  of  it. 

"  The  missionary  is  also  laying  up  trouble  for  himself 
by  his  lack  of  understanding  of  Chinese  social  institu- 
tions. For  one  thing,  he  should  let  the  Chinese  pay 
respect  to  their  ancestors  as  much  as  they  like.  A 
Chinaman  reverences  his  father  and  his  mother,  his 
grandfather,  his  grandmother,  and  all  his  ancestors. 
Living  or  dead  his  forefathers  receive  the  same  venera- 
tion. The  Chinaman  obeys  your  Fifth  Commandment 
better  than  the  Christian  obeys  it.  He  continues  to  pay 
his  respects  after  death  has  taken  his  parents  from  him. 
He  believes  their  spirits  know  of  his  fidelity,  and  that  he 
is  pleasing  them  by  his  acts  of  filial  piety.  He  does  not 
ask  the  spirits  to  assist  him,  or  to  protect  him,  or  to  do 
anything  for  him  in  any  way.  He  does  not  pray  to 
them  nor  does  he  worship  them.  He  honors  them. 

"  The  missionary,  not  understanding  what  he  saw, 
mistook  the  Chinese  obeisance  for  an  act  of  worship. 
This  mistake  has  led  him  to  protest  against  the  most 
sacred  of  Chinese  customs,  and  to  irritate  the  people  in 
their  most  sensitive  spot.  In  fact,  from  the  Chinese 

[230] 


MISSIONARIES 

standpoint,  the  remarks  of  some  of  the  Protestant  mis- 
sionaries as  to  the  worthiness  and  the  fate  of  '  heathen  ' 
ancestors,  have  been  revolting.  What  would  you  say  to 
the  man  who  applied  to  your  mother  epithets  that  would 
shame  a  fallen  woman?  Kill  him?  Yes,  that  is  your 
attitude,  and  it  is  the  attitude  of  many  Chinese  towards 
the  missionaries.  You  will  see  the  result  some  day. 

"  We  do  not  have  this  antagonism  in  Japan  because 
the  Japanese  are  tolerant  and  are  eager  to  learn.  We 
Buddhists  are  glad  to  work  with  all  who  will  help  man- 
kind. Japanese  reverence  their  ancestors,  but  they  are 
not  as  keen  about  it  as  the  Chinese  are;  and,  altogether, 
Christian  missionaries  may  be  said  to  have  a  rather  easy 
time  of  it  here.  If  they  will  master  our  language  and 
understand  our  doctrines  they  will  have  a  yet  easier  time. 

"  And  I  should  like  to  say,  too,  that  some  of  those 
missionaries  who  are  rather  hot  against  Buddhism  would 
see,  if  they  would  consider,  that  we  are  Buddhists  for 
pretty  much  the  same  reason  that  accounts  for  their 
being  Christians.  Their  parents  were  Christians,  their 
relatives  were,  their  friends  were.  They  heard  their 
learned  men  preach  Christianity,  their  teachers  told  them 
it  was  true,  and  thus  growing  up  in  it  they  believe  it. 
That  is  natural.  If  they  did  not,  it  would  be  remark- 
able. Buddhism  came  to  us  in  the  same  way.  We  both 
did  not  know  of  other  religions  at  first,  and  as  each  has 
the  same  practical  end  in  view  perhaps  we  can  work 
better  side  by  side  than  against  each  other.  As  there 
are  many  things  about  which  a  Christian  missionary 
would  find  fault  if  he  studied  Buddhist  sects,  so  there  are 

[231] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

points  in  some  missionaries'  teachings  that  we  do  not 
see  clearly  or  do  not  think  of  great  value  to  the  world. 

"  We  believe  that  good  done  for  the  sake  of  reward 
has  no  merit  and  will  not  benefit  the  individual  who  acts 
with  such  a  motive.  The  Christian's  heaven,  as  some 
preach  it,  seems  to  us  a  bribe.  We  do  not  claim  to  be 
the  only  folks  that  possess  the  truth.  I  have  heard  that 
this  religion  (Christianity)  was  the  only  true  one,  that 
others  were  all  wrong — as  filthy  rags,  I  think  the  mis- 
sionary said.  Then  he  added  that,  of  the  forty  or  fifty 
kinds  of  Christianity,  his  kind  was  the  only  right  kind. 
(I  believe  he  was  a  member  of  what  he  called  the  Chris- 
tian Church,  and  his  followers  were  Christian  Christians, 
instead  of  Baptist,  or  Methodist,  or  Presbyterian,  or 
Episcopalian,  or  Unitarian  Christians.)  He  said  that 
if  there  could  be  such  a  thing  as  grades  of  joy  in  heaven, 
the  Christian  Christians  would  have  the  best  grade. 

"  The  Christian  Bible,  in  which  we  find  much  that  is 
noble  and  beautiful  and  sacred,  seems  to  us  to  be  two 
Bibles,  one  Jewish  and  one  Gentile.  The  New  Testa- 
ment contains  the  fulfillment  of  the  prophecies  of  the  Old, 
some  say,  but  the  Jews,  the  '  chosen  people  of  God,'  do 
not  agree  to  this  statement.  As  the  Old  Testament 
belongs  to  them,  their  opinion  as  to  its  meaning  should 
have  weight.  Why  do  Christian  priests  preach  from 
the  Old  Testament  if  the  doctrine  of  immortality  is  not 
to  be  found  there  ?  What  would  Christianity  be  without 
immortality  ? 

"  We  do  not  understand  why  it  is  that  what  Jesus 
taught  and  what  Christians  do  are  so  different.  Jesus 

[232] 


MISSIONARIES 

caid  '  Love  your  enemies,'  yet  Christians  are  at  war  in 
some  place  or  other  almost  all  the  time.  How  many 
Christians  have  Christians  killed?  And  why?  We  do 
not  find  the  answer  in  the  teachings  of  Jesus. 

"  The  Jews,  too,  seem  to  have  been  at  war  a  great 
deal.  A  *  heathen  '  might  suppose  that  there  was  some- 
thing in  Bible  study  which  made  a  man  desire  to  fight. 
Some  of  our  Buddhists  are  very  careful  to  live  up  to  the 
idea  *  thou  shalt  not  kill.'  They  have  their  wooden 
clogs  made  with  one  support  underneath  instead  of  two 
so  that  they  will  step  on  fewer  insects  when  walking. 
Though  there  have  been  many  fighting  priests  who 
served  their  emperor  loyally  or  defended  their  homes 
against  assault,  there  have  been  no  Buddhist  wars  at 
all. 

"  We  do  not  understand  how  the  doctrines  of  '  Eternal 
Punishment '  and  '  Remission  of  Sins  '  agree.  We  have 
heard  so  often  of  incarnations — they  are  ubiquitous  and 
perennial — that  the  Christian  story  does  not  have  much 
force.  We  believe  in  liberation  rather  than  in  sacrifice, 
and  the  story  of  Jehovah  offering  His  Son  seems  to  us 
to  be  a  myth  founded  on  ideas  of  human  sacrifice  similar 
to  those  the  Druids  held.  New  Japan  is  scientific  and 
critical.  She  is  learning  to  compare  foreign  ideas  and 
to  discriminate  between  them.  At  first  she  accepted  them 
in  toto,  as  there  was  no  help  for  it.  Her  experience  gave 
her  nothing  to  gauge  by.  Such  religious  theories  or 
schemes  or  plans,  as  the  Fall  of  Man  and  his  Redemption, 
will  hardly  meet  with  general  acceptance,  but  I  should 
think  that  Christianity  could  proceed  without  them." 

[233] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

A  Japanese  friend  of  ours  who  had  been  among  the 
first  to  receive  a  graduation  certificate  from  a  mission 
school  told  us  that  his  relations  with  the  missionaries  had 
been  pleasant  and  cordial  always.  Though  he  was  not 
a  professing  Christian  when  we  saw  him,  he  continued 
his  friendship  with  his  former  teachers  and  visited  them 
in  Tsukiji  with  some  frequency.  He  was  in  the  Foreign 
Office,  and  had  seen  something  of  the  world  at  the  capi- 
tals of  Christian  nations,  besides  having  spent  up- 
wards of  a  year  in  India.  He  had  several  missionary 
friends  there  as  well  as  in  China. 

He  rather  admired  the  work  of  the  missions  in  various 
parts  of  the  world,  but  not  without  reservations.  "  They 
do  not  get  near  enough  to  the  heart  of  the  people,"  he 
said  to  us  one  morning  as  we  sat  round  a  free  box  at 
the  riding  school  in  Tokio.  "  Sometimes  it  is  the  lan- 
guage that  is  between  them  and  the  natives,  sometimes  it 
is  native  customs  which  the  missionaries  without  under- 
standing do  not  hesitate  to  disapprove,  and  again  it  is 
missionary  habits  which  arouse  suspicion  in  the  native 
mind. 

"  In  India,  for  instance,  the  missionaries  go  with  the 
officials  in  the  civil  service,  whom  the  natives  look  upon  as 
set  to  watch  over  them  and  towards  whom  there  is  no 
feeling  of  brotherhood  or  equality  or  trust.  Indeed, 
natives  in  India  often  regard  officials  with  suspicion  and 
even  with  dislike.  If  the  missionary  were  capable  of 
the  great  self-sacrifice  of  giving  up  his  own  people  and 
finding  his  companionships  among  the  natives,  showing 
himself  to  be  their  friend  rather  than  the  friend  of  the 


MISSIONARIES 

not  over-popular  officials,  he  would  learn  the  native  mind 
and  win  the  native  heart. 

"  In  China  the  missionary  should  show  the  natives  the 
fifth  commandment  and  explain  to  them  that  on  that 
point  the  Chinese  world  and  the  Christian  world  were 
at  one.  We  should  have  heard  little  of  Boxers  if  the 
missionaries  had  seen  that  the  reverence  the  Chinese  pay 
to  the  memory  of  their  ancestors  was,  to  all  intents  and 
purposes,  a  Christian  ceremony.  The  tact  of  the  Jesuits 
succeeded  here,  and  China  might  be  Christian  now  had 
not  the  Government  suspected  the  Jesuits  of  political 
aspirations. 

"  In  Japan  the  missionaries  herd  together  too  much. 
They  should  be  scattered  broadcast  amongst  our  people, 
not  in  a  colony  down  in  Tsukiji,  where  the  majority 
have  lived  pretty  much  as  they  live  at  home — the  differ- 
ence being  that  in  Japan  they  have  more  servants  than 
they  would  at  home,  and  perhaps  in  some  cases  more 
comfort.  There  were  four  servants  in  the  missionary's 
house  in  which  I  stayed  for  several  months,  and  we  had 
considerable  luxury  in  our  life — more  than  I  have  seen 
in  the  average  clergyman's  home  in  America.  We  had 
tea  and  toast  before  getting  out  of  bed,  brought  by  one 
of  the  maids;  we  had  a  breakfast,  better  certainly  than 
one  usually  has  in  England  and  especially  in  France; 
we  had  a  hot  tiffin  at  12.30;  we  had  tea,  jam,  and  sand- 
wiches at  four  o'clock ;  we  had  a  dinner  at  seven  o'clock 
that  usually  had  pheasant  or  chicken  or  duck  or  some- 
thing like  that  in  it,  and  we  had  a  supper  at  ten  o'clock 
of  cold  chicken  or  meat  and  bread  and  butter  and  beer. 

[235] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

"  I  thought  that  very  good  indeed  compared  to  Jap- 
anese living,  and  it  is  perhaps  as  good  as  any  mission- 
aries have.  Though  I  noticed  that,  excepting  the  Roman 
Catholics,  the  missionaries  thought  a  lot  about  food  and 
even  ordered  things  to  eat  from  San  Francisco.  It  is 
comfortable  to  have  nice  food  inside  of  one,  but  we 
natives  do  not  think  so  much  about  that.  We  like  good 
food,  but  good  eaters  do  not  appeal  to  us  with  much 
power  for  uplifting.  We  do  not  look  to  them  with  any 
special  expectancy  for  information  on  spiritual  matters. 
As  you  know,  we  do  not  show  much  interest  in  spiritual 
affairs  as  a  rule.  We  are  rather  materialistic.  It  takes 
much  influence  to  draw  us  to  matters  not  thoroughly 
practical. 

"  I  think,  therefore,  it  would  be  good  for  the  mis- 
sionary not  to  eat  so  much.  It  would  be  good,  too,  if  he 
would  come  among  us  and  live  more  as  we  live.  He 
should  learn  our  written  as  well  as  our  spoken  language. 
He  should  not  have  to  ask  his  jin-riki-sha  man  the  mean- 
ing of  the  street  signs.  He  should  not  have  to  ask  his 
cook  to  translate  the  butcher's  bill  or  the  grocer's  bill  for 
him.  These  things  lower  the  missionary  in  the  eye  of 
the  native.  The  coolie  says,  *  He  has  come  to  teach  us ! 
Why,  he  can't  even  read ! ' 

"  Then,  too,  in  some  habits  of  taste  the  missionary  is 
not  quite  with  us  here  in  Japan.  We  think  him,  and 
especially  her,  prudish  in  some  ways.  We  do  not  blush 
over  necessary  things  or  try  to  conceal  them  as  though 
they  were  wrong.  On  the  other  hand,  we  are  not  given 
to  caressing.  We  dislike  personal  contact,  and  to  see, 

[3*6] 


MISSIONARIES 

as  sometimes  one  sees,  a  missionary  man  and  his  wife 
'  spooning,'  I  think  you  call  it,  shocks  us.  Our  people 
do  not  understand,  or  rather  they  misunderstand  most 
seriously.  After  witnessing  such  a  spectacle  as  even 
mild  spooning  is  to  them  they  have  little  faith  in  the 
moral  or  the  spiritual  elevation  of  the  spooners. 

"  In  the  matter  of  our  bathing,  too,  the  missionary 
misunderstands.  There  is  absolutely  no  thought  of  im- 
morality connected  with  baths  in  the  minds  of  Japanese, 
but  missionary  ladies  raise  their  hands  in  horror.  If 
they  understood  they  would  be  thankful  that  there  is  on 
this  earth  a  people  clean  mentally  as  well  as  physically, 
who  can  bathe  as  we  bathe — in  perfect  innocence." 


[237] 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-EIGHT 

GILDED  WITH  OLD  GOLD 

WE   found  the   pace  of  the   gilded  youth  in 
Japan  quite  as  rapid  as  it  is  in  other  coun- 
tries.    In  fact  it  was  so  fast  that,  as  Walter 
Besant  once  said  of  a  man  who  was  running  away  from 
a  bear,  "  it  was  manifest  to  the  most  casual  observer  that 
the  primary  effort  was  speed." 

The  Prince  of  Sendai  set  such  a  pace  in  the  days  of 
the  Shogunate  that  the  Mayor  of  the  Palace  remon- 
strated, and  told  him  if  he  had  money  to  get  rid  of  he 
had  better  rid  himself  of  it  in  a  way  that  would  be  of 
some  advantage  to  the  state.  Thereupon  he  ordered  the 
Prince  to  dig  a  moat  through  Surugadai,  the  highest 
hill  in  Yedo.  This  moat  completed  a  sort  of  spiral 
canal  around  the  Shogun's  palace.  It  took  three  thou- 
sand men  two  years  to  dig  this  ditch,  which  is  known 
as  "  Sendai's  Sorrow." 

Sendai's  chief  exploit,  one  that  brought  him  national 
notoriety,  was  hiring  the  entire  Yoshiwara  and  closing 
the  gates  while  he  entertained  his  friends.  The  Yoshi- 
wara is  a  community  by  itself  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
city,  and  contains  some  two  thousand  persons  whose  lives, 
so  long  as  they  remain  there,  are  dedicated  to  joy  and 
sin.  To  hire  the  Waldorf-Astoria  in  order  to  eat  a 

[238] 


GILDED    WITH    OLD    GOLD 

sandwich  would  be  on  a  par,  financially,  with  this  act  of 
Sendai's. 

Sendai  liked  the  "  No  "  dance,  which  is  indeed  perfect 
in  its  dainty  grace,  but,  like  classic  music,  one  cannot 
learn  to  appreciate  it  in  an  afternoon.  A  long  course 
of  training  is  necessary.  This  training  is  expensive 
when  one  persists  in  it  on  the  scale  that  Sendai  followed. 
He  delighted  to  look  over  his  sake  cup  while  five  hundred 
beautifully  robed  geisha  postured  before  him  in  rhyth- 
mic motion,  like  a  field  of  flowers  in  the  wind.  He  gave 
great  dances  on  all  the  festal  days,  sometimes  on  a  flotilla 
in  the  river,  and  sometimes  beneath  the  cherry  blossoms 
along  the  banks  of  Sumida  Gawa.  He  would  hire  a 
theater,  with  a  company  of  actors,  and  give  a  continuous 
performance  for  a  week,  with  the  little  square  pens  in 
the  pit  filled  with  singing  girls,  all  banqueting. 

The  tea-houses  that  he  patronized  grew  rich,  for  his 
custom  was  to  order  "  the  best  there  is  and  all  there  is 
of  it."  He  would  have  broken  the  Satsuma  dishes  off 
which  he  fed  if  he  had  not  been  too  thoroughly  an  artist. 

He  ate  kami-boku,  a  kind  of  fish  paste  made  of  the 
little  kernel  of  flesh  taken  from  the  head  of  "  tai,"  a 
variety  of  bream  much  esteemed  by  Japanese  epicures. 
Court  nobles  would  have  relished  the  bodies,  but  Sendai 
threw  these  away.  He  ate  mountain-sparrow  soup,  that 
even  the  Shogun  saw  only  once  a  year  when  he  offered 
food  to  the  spirits  of  his  ancestors. 

With  all  this  he  seems  to  have  kept  his  health,  owing, 
perhaps,  to  his  practice  of  fencing  with  the  long,  two- 
handed  bamboo  swords  that  are  popular  to  this  day. 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

The  exercise  is  rougher  than  either  broadsword  or  rapier, 
for  which  reason  the  fencers  need  well-padded  armor. 
No  European  has  a  chance  at  sword-play  against  a  Jap- 
anese expert,  and  with  his  two-handed  weapon  it  was  said 
that  the  Prince  of  Sendai  could  draw  his  sword  and  take 
off  an  enemy's  head  in  a  single  sweep. 

Of  course,  being  a  great  swell,  he  had  blades  that 
were  worth  many  times  their  weight  in  gold.  One  could 
not  be  a  swell  in  those  days  without  owning  good  swords, 
for  "  the  sword  was  the  soul  of  the  samurai."  Sendai, 
like  others  in  his  class,  went  in  for  archery,  too,  and 
could  shoot  while  standing  in  his  stirrups  or  from  under 
his  horse's  neck.  Archery  is  still  a  gentleman's  pastime 
in  Japan ;  likewise  polo,  with  scoop  nets  instead  of  mal- 
lets. It  is  rough  work,  but  not  as  fierce  as  the  game  they 
play  in  India  and  in  England. 

Tea-drinking  hardly  would  seem  to  come  under  the 
head  of  a  sport,  or  to  appeal  to  a  man  who  led  a  fast, 
fierce  life.  But  Sendai  spent  enough  at  it  to  make  a 
dozen  experts  in  its  ceremonies  independent  for  life.  Of 
this  pastime  Professor  Chamberlain  says :  "  The  art  of 
drinking  tea  has  gone  through  three  stages — medico- 
religious,  luxurious,  and  aesthetic."  It  was  the  third 
stage  that  appealed  to  Sendai. 

The  ceremony  originated  in  a  worthy  cause.  A  priest 
named  Eisai,  who  wished  to  reform  a  youthful  Shogun 
who  drank  too  much  sake  and  sham-shiu,  got  him  inter- 
ested in  tea  by  elaborating  a  set  of  rules  for  drinking  it. 
When  the  ceremony  was  well  established  in  the  august 
favor  the  old  priest  gave  the  Shogun  tracts  on  the  bcne- 

[240] 


GILDED    WITH    OLD    GOLD 

ficial  effects  of  tea,  how  it  regulated  the  whole  system 
and  drove  out  devils — might,  indeed,  be  preferred  to  the 
gold  cure. 

Eisai  worked  in  a  good  deal  of  religion  along  with 
his  tea,  but  the  ceremony  of  drinking  grew  more  and 
more  worldly,  until  it  was  all  luxury  and  no  religion. 
The  swells  drank  tea  daily  in  gorgeous  apartments  hung 
with  brocade  and  damask,  where  they  burned  precious 
perfumes,  and  served  rare  fishes  and  strange  birds  with 
sweetmeats  and  wine.  In  time  they  lost  their  fortunes 
and  themselves  in  this  extravagance  of  etiquette,  for  the 
rules  ordained  that  all  the  things  rich  and  rare  that  were 
exhibited  were  to  be  given  to  the  singing  and  dancing 
girls  who  entertained  the  guests.  Troops  of  them  were 
always  present,  and  this  explains  why  Sendai  was  so  fond 
of  tea. 

Even  in  such  extravagant  observance,  however,  tea- 
drinking  was  not  altogether  an  evil.  While  it  lasted  it 
gave  great  stimulus  to  art.  Some  of  the  finest  specimens 
of  native  work  date  from  the  "  tea  period."  So  Sendai 
may  be  said  to  have  done  good  in  a  negative  way,  not 
meaning  to,  perhaps,  but  those  of  us  who  care  for  Japan- 
ese art  may  say  "  Thank  you  "  to  him  and  his  class,  and 
drink  his  health  from  one  of  the  famous  bowls  of  the  tea 
period. 


CHAPTER   TWENTY-NINE 

AND  SO  HE  BECAME  A  SAINT 

NACHI  has  waterfalls,  temples,  and  big  trees. 
The  big  trees  are  glorious  in  the  autumn,  the 
temples  have  many  famous  relics,  and  the 
waterfalls,  among  them  the  highest  in  Japan,  will  wash 
away  all  sin.  When  Gardner  and  I  were  down  there  we 
tried  one,  with  gratifying  results.  We  may  return  to 
it  some  day,  should  it  seem  advisable.  It  does  one  good 
to  take  a  fall  now  and  again. 

The  pool  we  chose  for  our  ablutions  was  below  "  Ichi- 
no-taki,"  or  No.  1  Fall,  the  largest  of  the  three,  which 
tumbles  down  a  good  three  hundred  feet.  It  was  the 
very  place  that  Saint  Mongaku  Shonin  had  soaked  in 
continuously  for  three  weeks  some  centuries  before.  A 
peasant  woman  showed  us  where  he  sat,  and  then  sold 
us  several  pictures  taken  on  the  spot — ages  after  the 
event. 

Mongaku  portraits  are  common  in  Nachi.  They  are 
accurate  representations  of  what  was  in  the  mind  of 
whoever  made  them.  No  one  should  blame  the  saint  that 
they  are  not  beautiful.  He  has  quite  enough  else  to 
answer  for,  and  were  it  not  for  the  virtues  of  Ichi-no- 
taki,  and  his  long  atonement  in  the  pool  below,  one 
dreads  to  think  where  he  would  be  now.  Mongaku  was 
the  name  he  was  known  by  after  death ;  his  living  name 


AND    SO    HE    BECAME    A    SAINT 

was  Rambo.  Rambo's  experience  was  one  to  have  made 
of  him  a  saint  or  else. a  raging  devil.  Fate  ordained 
him  saint,  with  a  purgatory  on  earth. 

When  young  he  had  been  full  of  fiery  ambitions.  His 
father  was  dead,  and  being  the  only  son  what  could  his 
mother  do?  Her  parents  had  "  augustly  departed,"  and 
her  husband  too;  was  not  hers  the  third  obedience? 
Rambo  was  not  much  about  the  house,  however,  nor  keen 
for  the  books  that  his  uncle,  the  chief  priest  at  Fuda- 
rakuji,  the  first  of  the  Kwannon  temples,  gave  him  to 
read.  He  was  for  the  mountains.  He  knew  the  Kumano 
Three  Peaks  better  than  the  oldest  hunters,  at  least  so 
said  the  village  folk.  He  was  a  wonderful  swimmer  too, 
and  could  dive  into  pools  and  catch  fishes  with  his  hands. 
Occasionally  he  would  be  away  for  weeks  at  Oshima, 
watching  with  the  whalers  and  going  out  with  them  to 
place  the  nets.  He  was  the  first  to  jump  on  the  dying 
mammal  to  cut  the  slits  in  the  creature's  back  and  make 
the  hawser  fast  for  towing  the  body  ashore.  Both  on 
land  and  on  the  water,  and  in  the  water  too,  he  was  as 
skillful  at  eighteen  as  others  were  at  eight-and-thirty. 
Furthermore,  he  was  a  handsome  youth,  according  to 
traditions,  not  the  pictures,  and  had  small  traces  about 
him  of  the  saint  that  was  to  be. 

One  day  of  a  season  that  had  been  poor  for  whales, 
Rambo  had  been  with  the  topmost  look-outs  watching 
vainly  for  a  chance  to  give  the  signal  to  the  men  below, 
when  a  messenger  from  his  mother  came  to  him  with 
tidings  that  Shinrui  San  of  Kanazawa,  his  kinsman  by 
adoption,  would  be  in  Nachi  soon.  His  mother  wished 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

to  have  everything  in  readiness  for  the  guest  from  such 
a  distance,  and  begged  Rambo  so  to  order  it.  Rambo 
had  never  seen  this  kinsman,  but  he  had  heard  of  him  as 
a  man  of  prowess,  one  after  his  own  heart,  so  he  returned 
quickly  with  the  messenger  and  prepared  to  receive 
Shinrui. 

The  guests  were  two  days  late  in  reaching  Nachi,  ow- 
ing to  the  fall  of  an  embankment,  which  came  down  upon 
the  road,  making  it  impassable  for  half  a  ri.  Shinrui 
could  have  come  round  by  a  footpath  probably,  but 
Gozen  his  wife  was  with  him,  and  to  climb  the  mountain 
with  her  would  be  more  troublesome  than  to  wait  for 
men  to  clear  the  road.  Rambo  chafed  at  the  delay,  and 
threatened  to  go  back  to  Oshima,  but  his  mother  per- 
suaded him  to  stay,  saying  that  now  that  her  brother- 
in-law,  Gozen's  father,  was  dead,  and  the  mother  also, 
and  the  young  couple  were  coming  to  them,  everything 
possible  should  be  ready  to  give  them  a  welcome  to 
Nachi,  as  if  it  were  their  own  home,  as  indeed,  with  her 
son's  permission,  she  hoped  it  might  be. 

"  It  is  of  no  matter  to  me,"  said  Rambo.  "  I  wish  to 
see  Shinrui,  for  he  is  a  brave  samurai  and  famous  as  a 
hunter.  I  can  exercise  with  him.  If  he  will  stay  I  shall 
be  glad.  I  can  show  him  the  whales,  too,  if  ever  they 
come  to  this  coast  again.  He  has  no  such  sport  off 
Kanazawa.  If  my  cousin  stays  too,  it  will  do  perhaps. 
I  can  tell  when  I  see  her.  But  she  must  be  a  daughter 
to  you  and  company,  if  you  need  such  things." 

These  words  pleased  the  mother  greatly,  for  the  days 
had  been  long  and  lonely  since  she  became  a  widow. 


AND    SO    HE    BECAME    A    SAINT 

"  Your  selfish,  stupid  mother  thanks  you  with  much 
gratefulness,"  she  said,  bowing  to  her  son,  who  was  busy 
making  a  net  for  ducks  and  did  not  notice. 

On  the  following  day  after  this  talk,  Shinrui  came 
and  O  Gozen  San  with  him.  Rambo's  mother  greeted 
them  with  many  welcomes. 

"  It  is  indeed  good  to  see  you,"  she  said.  "  Come  in ! 
come  in !  My  son  has  gone  to  the  river  for  some  trout 
and  will  be  back  directly.  What  a  pity  there  should 
have  been  an  accident  to  the  embankment !  We  heard  of 
it  only  yesterday,  but  it  explained  your  delay.  Indeed 
we  hardly  thought  you  could  arrive  before  night,  or 
possibly  to-morrow  morning.  Here !  I  will  put  your  lug- 
gage in  this  cupboard  where  you  can  open  it  at  your 
leisure.  This  corner  of  our  unworthy  house  is  to  be 
yours  always.  Excuse  the  dirty  and  miserable  condition 
of  everything.  Do  you  like  the  view  across  the  river  to 
the  hillside  temple?  The  bath  will  be  hot  in  a  few  min- 
utes. Here  are  the  futon.  Lie  down  and  rest,  and  I  will 
call  you  presently.  Here  is  some  hot  sake.  Pardon  the 
rude  way  in  which  I  serve  it.  Now  I  will  leave  you  and 
send  a  messenger  for  Rambo." 

So  in  a  short  time  the  new  arrivals  had  bathed  and 
rested  and  refreshed  themselves  with  cakes  and  sake,  and 
by  the  time  for  the  midday  meal  Rambo  was  back  with  a 
basket  of  fish  such  as  gives  joy  to  the  hearts  of  the  chil- 
dren of  Japan.  Shinrui  and  O  Gozen  San  bowed  low 
and  apologized  for  their  slow  coming,  and  for  the 
trouble  they  were  giving,  and  for  having  the  "  disgust- 
ing effrontery  to  be  in  existence,"  as  well  as  for  other 

[245] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

things  beyond  the  ken  of  those  uninitiated  to  the  mys- 
teries of  Japanese  etiquette.  Rambo  bowed  with  due 
formality,  and  then,  not  noticing  O  Gozen  San,  who, 
after  the  manner  of  Japanese  women,  kept  herself  on  the 
verge  of  obliteration,  he  proceeded  to  ask  about  the 
sports  of  the  west  coast — the  fencing,  the  wrestling,  the 
boar  hunting,  the  bear  and  the  deer,  the  ducks  and 
the  pheasants,  about  the  dangers  of  the  mountains,  the 
storms  on  the  North  Sea,  and  what  not. 

In  the  afternoon  he  took  Shinrui  to  show  him  the  falls 
and  .the  pools  where  the  fishing  was  best.  The  next  day 
the  pair  went  into  the  mountains,  and  later  they  trav- 
eled down  to  see  if  the  whales  had  come  in  sight.  One  did 
come  in  towards  shore,  and  the  Oshima  men  got  him. 
Shinrui  was  astonished  at  what  he  saw.  Soon  after  they 
were  home  again  Shinrui  had  to  go  to  Kiyoto  on  busi- 
ness connected  with  the  estate  of  the  man  who  had 
adopted  him.  It  was  then  that  Rambo  really  saw  O 
Gozen  San.  The  shyness  which  her  new  surroundings 
caused  at  first  had  disappeared,  and  her  new  mother,  as 
she  called  her  hostess,  had  treated  her  so  kindly  that  the 
cheerfulness  she  had  not  known  since  her  father's  death 
returned. 

Rambo  watched  her  often,  though  he  did  not  realize 
why.  He  had  not  thought  seriously  of  any  woman  be- 
fore, nor  cared  much  whether  or  no  there  were  such 
beings;  but  now,  his  mother  noticed,  he  was  round  the 
house  much  more,  sometimes  the  whole  day  long;  he 
was  more  careful  of  his  dress,  and  of  his  appearance  gen- 
erally; when  he  was  away  it  was  only  to  procure  some 

[246] 


AND    SO    HE    BECAME    A    SAINT 

dainty,  which,  though  he  did  not  present  it  directly  to 

0  Gozen   San,  he   encouraged  her  to  eat  with  much 
solicitude. 

The  old  lady  did  not  suspect  the  meaning  of  the 
change,  until  she  said  one  morning: 

"  Shinrui  San  will  return  soon,  now.  You  will  then 
have  a  companion  for  your  hunting.  I  see  how  you  have 
missed  him.  It  is  too  bad  you  should  have  had  a  stupid 
time  so  long  about  the  house  where  only  women  are." 

"  I  do  not  wish  Shinrui  to  return,"  said  Rambo. 
"  There  will  be  no  peace  for  me  when  he  comes  back. 

1  wish  the  gods  would  take  him  to  the  Bonin  islands." 

"  Oya !  oya ! "  cried  the  old  lady ;  "  what  can  cause 
you  to  talk  so  of  a  friend,  and  our  relation?  " 

"  That  is  just  the  matter.  He  is  a  relation.  If  he 
were  not,  all  would  be  easy.  But  I  must  have  my  way 
in  spite  of  that.  You  must  arrange  it  for  me." 

"  Arrange  what,  my  son  ?  " 

"  I  must  have  O  Gozen  San.  She  must  go  with  me 
and  be  my  wife." 

"  Are  you  mad?  Why  do  you  make  such  horrid 
jests?  Surely  you  do  not  mean  these  words.  You  would 
not  harm  the  honor  of  our  house  ?  " 

But  Rambo  convinced  his  mother,  whose  face  was  hid- 
den in  her  sleeves,  that  he  was  in  earnest,  and  was  de- 
termined to  have  his  way  despite  all  obstacles.  She  had 
always  done  his  bidding,  she  must  do  so  now. 

"  No,  no,  you  may  kill  me,  but  I  cannot,"  was  the 
hapless  woman's  reply.  Rambo  was  in  such  a  rage  that 
no  one  knows  what  he  might  have  done,  had  not  O  Gozen 

[247] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

San,  who  had  been  in  the  next  room  and  had  heard  all 
through  the  karakami  that  shut  off  her  apartment, 
rushed  out,  and  clutching  her  new  mother's  sleeve,  turned 
to  her  cousin  and  said  slowly  and  distinctly: 

"  Do  not  urge  your  mother  now,  or  vex  her  with  re- 
proaches. There  is  no  reason  to  do  so.  I  am  willing  to 
do  as  you  wish,  on  one  condition  which  I  will  explain  to 
you  apart."  Then  stepping  to  the  farther  end  of  the 
room  she  talked  with  Rambo  in  a  low  voice,  lest  the 
mother  hear. 

"  It  would  never  do  to  run  away  together  and  leave 
my  husband  to  follow  us.  We  might  both  lose  our 
lives.  You  must  await  his  return,  and  at  night  when  he 
is  asleep  put  an  end  to  him.  We  can  then  live  in  peace 
without  fear  of  molestation." 

There  was  fierce  joy  in  Rambo's  heart  on  hearing  O 
Gozen  San  speak  these  words.  To  kill  Shinrui  would 
be  a  simple  matter,  and  he  readily  agreed  to  await  his 
home-coming.  Turning  to  his  mother,  he  said: 

"  All  is  settled ;  have  no  more  fear." 

He  had  not  long  to  wait.  Gozen's  husband  returned 
three  days  later,  and  that  night  Rambo  feasted  him  and 
saw  that  his  sake  cup  was  never  empty.  When  Shinrui 
was  beginning  to  show  the  effects  of  this  attention, 
Rambo,  saying  he  would  return  shortly,  left  the  room 
to  put  his  sword  in  order.  O  Gozen  San  sat  by  her  hus- 
band, helping  in  the  plot,  and  pouring  him  sake  until 
he  yawned  and  called  for  his  futon.  She  got  some  and 
laid  them  out  in  order. 

Not  noticing  what  they  were,  nor  in  what  place  she 
[248] 


AND    SO    HE    BECAME    A    SAINT 

had  arranged  them,  he  rolled  over  to  them  and  immedi- 
ately was  asleep.  Then  wistfully  Gozen  looked  at  him, 
and  drawing  the  yagu  up  to  cover  him,  she  bowed  her 
head  to  the  floor,  saying: 

"  Dana  San,  O  yasumi  nasai." 

Closing  the  karakami  to  her  apartment  she  changed 
the  dark  kimono  she  was  wearing  for  one  all  white. 
Then  she  laid  out  Shinrui's  own  futon  in  the  accustomed 
place,  took  a  rosary  that  once  had  been  her  mother's, 
and  kneeling  with  the  beads  between  her  palms,  she  re- 
peated slowly  several  times: 

"  Namu  Amida  Butsu !     Namu  Amida  Butsu !  " 

And  now  lying  down  she  covered  herself  with  Shinrui's 
yagu,  and  lay  as  though  asleep  quite  in  the  position  her 
husband  had  been  wont  to  occupy.  Only  she  herself 
knew  it  was  the  woman  and  not  the  man  that  lay  there. 

What  happened  afterwards  who  shall  say?  But  in 
the  morning  a  moaning  mother's  mind  had  given  way 
through  grief  for  a  son's  crime;  a  husband  had  been 
drowned  in  searching  fiercely  for  a  murderer;  and  a 
youth  of  splendid  promise  had  turned  from  the  world 
with  the  horror  of  remorse  upon  him,  with  a  great 
awakening  in  his  soul,  a  cry  demanding  life-long  pen- 
ance and  self -obliterating  service  to  the  glory  of  Amida 
Buddha.  The  service  he  began  in  the  sanctuary  pool  of 
penitents,  which  to  this  day  is  beneath  the  great  fall  at 
Nachi. 


[  249  ] 


CHAPTER   THIRTY 

KADE  AND  THE  REPEATERS 

WE  had  a  pupil  in  one  of  our  classes  for  Eng- 
lish conversation  whom  we  called  "  Pokan  no 
Kade"— or     "  Kade,"     for     short.       When 
Pokan  no  Kade  was  a  youngster  his  particular  play- 
mate was  Mutsu  Hito,  the  present  Emperor  of  Japan. 

Mutsu  and  Kade  had  many  likes  in  common,  and 
many  dislikes  too ;  but  they  were  generous  lads,  and  had 
never  been  known  to  quarrel.  Difference  in  rank  had  not 
come  between  them,  and  each  one  was  devoted  to  the 
other,  as  two  chums  should  be.  One  of  their  common 
likes  was  cakes.  There  was  much  discussion  about  the 
palace  whether  Kade  or  the  Son  of  the  Immortals  ate  this 
sweet  of  the  pastry-maker  with  the  more  relish.  Cer- 
tainly it  was  a  joyous  sight  to  see  either  of  them 
a-munching,  and  when  they  munched  together,  as  they 
often  did  in  the  palace  garden,  even  the  fiercest  of  the 
guardsmen  would  begin  to  purr. 

But  one  day  there  was  no  cake.  The  Son  of  the  Im- 
mortals had  had  a  pain  that  morning,  and  the  thirteen 
Court  physicians,  after  consultation,  had  told  the  Grand 
Marshal  of  the  Household  about  this  pain.  The  grand 
marshal  told  the  chamberlain,  who  told  the  keeper  of  the 
royal  purse,  who  told  the  imperial  provider,  who  told  the 
high  caterer,  who  told  the  dispenser  of  the  sacred  pastry, 

[250] 


KADE    AND    THE    REPEATERS 

that  cake  was  the  cause  of  the  ache.  Eleven  minutes 
later  there  was  no  cake  to  be  found  in  the  royal  palace. 

When  Mutsu  said  "  cake "  to  the  noble  to  whose 
charge  he  had  been  committed  for  the  day,  that  func- 
tionary bowed  low,  and  told  the  officer  next  in  rank  that 
the  Son  of  the  Immortals  wished  for  cake.  This  officer, 
in  turn,  bowed  to  the  ground  and  then  repeated  the  royal 
wish  to  an  officer  still  lower,  and  so  it  went  on ;  but  cake 
did  not  appear. 

"  Chin  no  kwashi  doko  ka?  "  cried  Mutsu — which 
being  interpreted  means,  "  Where  is  my  cake  ?  "  The 
noble  guardian  bowed  low,  and  said  to  the  officer  below 
him,  "  The  Son  of  the  Immortal  Ones  has  deigned  to 
say,  *  Where  is  my  cake  ?  '  "  These  words  were  also  re- 
peated, and  many  others,  petulant,  wrathful,  and  be- 
seeching; but  that  which  was  longed  for  did  not  come. 

The  palace  and  the  grounds  about  echoed  with  the 
voices  of  officers  and  servants  of  many  grades,  who  were 
as  the  links  of  a  chain,  beginning  at  the  feet  of  the  Son 
of  the  Immortals  and  ending  nowhere — at  least,  not  in 
the  cake  pantry.  The  air  was  full  of  the  word  "  cake," 
but  the  thing  cake  came  not  in  sight. 

While  all  this  was  going  on,  Pokan  no  Kade  sat  on  a 
pile  of  sand  near  the  great  gate  of  the  palace,  playing 
with  a  half-dozen  watches  which  his  Imperial  chum  had 
given  to  him  the  day  before.  Watches,  or  "  toki,"  as 
Mutsu  had  called  them,  were  new  things  in  Japan  then, 
especially  repeaters,  and  all  six  of  these  were  repeaters. 

Kade  had  great  fun  with  them,  ringing  their  bells, 
and  laying  them  like  stepping-stones  about  a  dainty 

[251] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

garden  such  as  all  Japanese  children  can  lay  out  in 
miniature  so  prettily.  Once  he  built  a  castle,  and 
planted  the  watches  in  two  piles  on  the  very  top,  just 
as  the  gold  dolphins  are  put  on  the  Castle  of  Nagoya. 

He  was  so  busy  with  his  play  that  for  a  long  time 
he  did  not  hear  the  many  voices  saying  "  cake."  But 
finally,  when  an  inadvertent  kick  had  upset  his  castle, 
and  he  was  looking  about  for  something  else  to  do,  he 
heard  the  cries,  and  soon  found  out  their  meaning. 

Thrusting  the  watches  into  his  sleeve — which  was 
large  enough  to  hold  more  playthings  than  the  pockets 
of  a  whole  suit  of  clothes  such  as  an  English  boy  wears 
— he  ran  to  the  royal  kitchen ;  but  of  course  there  was  no 
cake  there,  nor  would  the  cooks  make  any,  though  Kade 
begged  never  so  hard. 

"  I'll  get  some,  anyhow,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  A 
watch  is  as  pretty  as  a  cake.  I  know  where  there's  an 
old  woman  with  a  houseful  of  cakes.  She  just  sits  and 
looks  at  them  all  day.  I'll  go  to  see  her." 

So  Kade  slipped  out  unseen  and  went  to  the  cake- 
shop,  where  he  laid  the  six  watches  on  the  floor  near 
where  the  old  woman  sat,  and  picking  up  six  of  the 
prettiest  cakes,  put  them  in  his  sleeves,  and  scampered 
back  to  the  palace. 

That  night  the  Court  physicians  held  another  con- 
sultation. 


CHAPTER    THIRTY -ONE 

KADE  WOULD  ADVENTURE 

KADE  thought  to  run  away  from  his  home  one 
night.     He  had  planned  for  the  adventure  as 
he  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  veranda  of  his  home  in 
Tokio.     Years  after  he  told  us  the  story.     Here  it  is 
in  substance,  if  not  in  his  exact  words. 

"  Yes,  I  must  have  waraji,  of  course,"  he  said  to  him- 
self as  he  sat  swinging  his  bare  legs  to  and  fro.  "  The 
road  over  the  mountain  is  rough.  I  remember  how  it 
cut  my  feet  when  I  got  out  of  the  kago  up.  there  and 
ran  on  ahead  to  see  if  the  men  had  caught  a  bear.  If 
I  had  only  worn  sandals  then  I  could  have  gone  into  the 
woods  and  helped." 

Kade  was  only  nine  years  old  then,  and  though  of  a 
Kuge  or  Court  noble  family  had  been  adopted  by  a  per- 
sonage who  stood  high  in  favor  with  the  Shogun.  He 
knew  the  folklore  of  his  country  well,  and  believed  it  all 
was  true,  and  he  could  tell  of  many  of  the  brave  deeds 
that  had  been  done  in  Dai  Nippon  since  Jimmu  Tenno, 
the  founder  of  the  Empire,  had  descended  from  the  skies 
upon  the  sacred  mountain  that  all  Japanese  still  hold  in 
reverence.  His  tutor  had  told  him  of  these  things,  for  he 
was  a  man  of  war  as  well  as  learning,  and  he  found  a 
ready  listener  in  the  lad  whom  the  daimiyo  had  given 
into  his  charge. 

[253] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Kade  wished  to  do  great  things,  too.  He  had  just 
made  up  his  mind  to  go  over  the  mountains  to  a  place 
where  lived  the  most  valiant  of  all  the  clans,  the  great 
clan  of  Satsuma.  There  he  would  learn  the  art  of  war 
by  actual  fighting,  and  would  win  fame  for  himself  and 
honor  for  his  house. 

He  was  to  start  out  that  very  night,  and  it  was  time 
to  make  ready.  All  that  he  knew  was  that  his  goal  was 
over  the  mountains,  that  the  road  was  rough,  that  he 
needed  waraji  and  that  waraji  cost  money.  He  did  not 
know  what  money  was,  for,  like  other  children  of  gentle 
birth  in  Old  Japan,  he  had  never  bought  anything  in 
his  life,  or  even  touched  a  coin  or  a  piece  of  script ;  but 
he  had  heard  the  steward  of  the  household  talking  about 
money  one  day  while  counting  bright  pieces  of  some- 
thing yellow,  and  he  knew  where  those  bright  pieces  were 
kept. 

"  I  am  almost  sure  they  were  money,"  he  said,  as  he 
went  on  with  his  planning  to  run  away  from  home  to  be 
a  soldier. 

"  I'll  get  some  of  them  as  soon  as  everyone  is  in  bed 
to-night,  and  then  everything  will  be  all  right.  I'll  go 
down  to  the  shop  by  the  stone  bridge  and  give  the  money 
to  the  old  woman  in  the  sandal  shop,  and  she  will  give 
me  the  waraji." 

So  when  all  was  still  throughout  the  house  Kade 
crawled  out  from  the  futon  where  he  had  been  lying  as 
though  fast  asleep,  and  sliding  back  the  karakami  and 
the  shoji,  and  the  little  door  in  the  gate  outside,  made 
his  way  quickly  to  the  hut  near  Ishibashi,  as  the  old  stone 


KADE    WOULD    ADVENTURE 

bridge  is  called.  He  had  with  him  the  wooden  box  in 
which  he  had  seen  the  steward  put  the  shining  yellow 
pieces. 

The  sandal  maker  was  a  light  sleeper,  and  heard  the 
first  low  call  that  Kade  made.  She  found  the  kind  of 
waraji  that  he  wanted,  and  he  thanked  her  for  them. 
Then  he  opened  the  wooden  box  and  handed  her  a  piece 
of  money. 

When  the  sandal  maker  saw  it  she  gasped  for  breath. 
Kade  had  offered  her  a  gold  piece  stamped  jiu  yen.  A 
jiu  yen  piece!  Why,  that  was  enough  to  buy  six  thou- 
sand waraji,  or  sixty  thousand  likely.  It  was  more 
money  than  the  ojd  woman  had  seen  in  all  her  life.  She 
had  heard  of  such  enormous  pieces,  but  that  she  should 
ever  touch  one  with  her  poor  old  hand 

"  Come,  take  it,"  said  Kade.  "  It's  money.  I  must 
put  on  the  waraji  and  be  off." 

The  old  woman  was  still  speechless. 

The  lad  called  out  to  her  again,  but  there  was  no 
answer.  Then  the  moon  broke  through  a  cloud  and 
shone  upon  the  aged  face.  When  Kade  saw  it,  fear  came 
upon  him,  and  he  ran  back  to  this  uncle's  house  so  fast 
that  he  seemed  to  fly.  He  took  with  him  the  wooden  box 
and  the  waraji,  but  he  left  the  jiu  yen  piece  in  the  dead 
woman's  hand,  where  a  guardsman  found  it  in  the  early 
morning. 


[255] 


CHAPTER    THIRTY-TWO 

WHAT  HAPPENED  TO  ALLEN 

SHE  is  so  frolicsome,  jolly,  and  good-natured,  and 
above  all  she  delights  so  much  in  pleasing,  that 
globe-trotters,  the  "  transients  "  of  Japan,  misun- 
derstand the  "  musume,"  while  she  is  too  innocent  to  un- 
derstand their  views  of  her.  They  think  she  cannot 
say  "  no,"  but  she  can.  They  think,  too,  that  com- 
placency is  the  law  of  her  life.  There  they  are  right 
and  wrong,  for  she  accepts  what  her  conscience  tells  her 
is  her  duty  with  a  resignation  that  has  the  outward 
aspect  of  complacency,  but  she  is  far  indeed  from  being 
complacent  with  infringements  of  those  proprieties  that 
are  natural  to  the  social  conditions  of  her  far-distant 
land. 

She  can  draw  the  line  for  the  globe-trotter,  and  for 
the  foreigner  resident,  too,  for  that  matter,  as  one  of 
our  friends  knows  full  well,  or  did  know  until  a  log 
rolled  over  him  in  a  Western  lumber  camp  and  blotted 
out  all  memory  of  the  past,  so  that  even  tapping  his  sub- 
consciousness  has  not  recalled  it. 

He  was  an  American  with  various  degrees  which  he 
had  picked  up  here  and  there,  and  a  keen  fondness  for 
travel.  He  was  M.  A.  of  Harvard,  LL.  B.  of  Colum- 
bia, Ph.  D.  of  Heidelberg,  J.  V.  D.  of  Paris ;  and  some- 
thing else  in  St.  Petersburg  that  is  impossible  in  Eng- 

[256] 


WHAT    HAPPENED    TO    ALLEN 

lish  type.  While  he  had  been  picking  up  degrees  he  had 
done  what  he  called  "  a  few  stunts  on  the  side,"  running 
a  paper  in  one  place,  and  lecturing  on  philosophy,  San- 
scrit, Greek,  French  literature,  and  the  History  of  Law 
in  other  places.  In  truth  he  had  an  appalling  quantity 
of  education,  and  in  spite  of  it  much  charm  of  manner. 
He  came  to  Japan  as  a  sociologist.  He  wished  to  study 
whatever  relics  of  the  recent  feudalism  might  remain, 
and  to  watch  the  progress  in  the  national  kindergarten. 

With  his  string  of  degrees  he  had  no  trouble  in  finding 
a  university  appointment  that  gave  him  the  oppor- 
tunities he  needed  for  investigation.  A  Dai  Gakko  pro- 
fessor ranks  high  in  Japan.  Soon  he  was  established. 
He  rented  a  home  on  Small  Stone-River  Hill,  near  a 
famous  temple,  and  had  arranged  his  life  quite  on  the 
Japanese  order.  Excepting  when  he  was  in  the  lecture- 
room  he  wore  "  kimono  "  instead  of  foreign  dress,  and 
"  geta,"  or  clogs,  instead  of  shoes.  He  went  barefoot, 
ate  with  chopsticks,  sat  on  the  floor,  slept  on  the  floor, 
learned  to  like  raw  fish  and  plain  boiled  rice.  He  had 
not  a  stove  in  the  house,  only  the  charcoal  braziers,  called 
hibachi,  and  a  sort  of  furnace  for  burning  wood  that 
the  cook  used  in  the  kitchen.  The  smoke  from  this 
found  its  way  out  through  a  hole  high  up  in  the  wall 
under  one  end  of  the  ridge  pole  at  the  top  of  the  ceiling- 
less  kitchen,  or  else  it  blew  round  and  pervaded  the 
apartment  generally.  The  gas  from  the  charcoal  got 
out  easily,  too,  for  the  ventilation  in  Japanese  houses  is 
particularly  thorough. 

Allen,  whom,  by  the  way,  the  natives  called  Sense! 
[257] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

(first-born),  a  title  of  respect  to  scholars,  professional 
men,  and  old  gentlemen  generally,  went  so  far  as  to 
master  the  Japanese  pillow.  This  was  a  triumph;  the 
fame  of  it  spread  abroad.  The  newspapers  got  hold 
of  it,  and  made  diagrams  of  the  process  of  the  achieve- 
ment, picturing  Allen  in  all  manner  of  contorted  shapes 
as  the  result  of  "  first  attempts."  In  the  serenity  of  his 
ultimate  attainment  he  dreamed  such  dreams  as  only  a 
Japanese  artist  can  depict  or  a  Japanese  paper  would 
dare  to  print. 

When  he  had  made  himself  familiar  with  his  new  en- 
vironment, a  kind  of  thing  he  had  especial  aptitude  for, 
he  fell  in  love.  That  was  natural  enough  and  proper. 
He  could  not  well  have  helped  it  even  had  it  not  been 
proper,  as  any  other  man  would  say  had  he  known  O 
Toku  San.  She  was  one  of  a  class  of  girls  that  came  to 
Allen's  house  for  an  hour's  English  conversation  exer- 
cise each  afternoon.  At  first  he  was  in  love  with  the 
whole  dozen  of  them,  but  gradually,  though  he  did  not 
love  eleven  less,  he  loved  O  Toku  San  more.  She  had 
clear  brown  eyes,  that  glowed  and  flashed  and  sparkled 
merrily,  and  changed  as  one  looked  at  them,  showing 
wonder  at  Allen's  words,  then  comprehension,  and  then 
delight  at  the  possession  of  new  knowledge.  It  is  not 
strange  that  the  instruction  wandered  now  and  then, 
deviating  from  the  "  system  "  the  instructor  had  laid 
down  on  psychologic  principles  for  harmonious  develop- 
ment according  to  the  laws  of  thought. 

All  the  twelve  learned  rapidly,  as  is  the  custom  of 
girls  in  Dai  Nippon,  but  O  Toku  got  hopelessly  ahead, 

[258] 


WHAT    HAPPENED    TO    ALLEN 

so  far,  indeed,  that  Allen's  system  wore  itself  to  ravels 
catching  up — and  then  it  never  reached  her.  He  put 
her  into  French  to  hold  her  back,  and  later  into  German ; 
and  finally  he  gave  her  a  series  of  essays  on  general  lit- 
erature that  he  had  worked  up  for  a  P.  G.  course  for 
some  college  down  in  Melbourne.  In  this  composition  he 
had  used  whatever  language  had  come  handiest.  For 
French  he  had  used  German,  for  German  French,  and 
for  English  both  French  and  German.  O  Toku  San  was 
equally  indifferent  in  her  reading  of  the  essays,  and  one 
day,  bowing  very  low,  she  handed  to  Allen  the  whole 
series  written  out  in  Japanese,  saying  she  thought  all 
students  would  like  to  read  it  if  they  could  have  it  in 
their  language.  Allen  had  the  translation  printed,  with  Q 
Toku's  name  and  family  crest  on  the  title-page — the  last 
page  in  the  book  as  European  volumes  go — and  six  months 
later  the  Empress  sent  the  girl  a  special  decoration. 

While  all  this  acquisition  was  in  progress,  Allen  was 
growing  very  chummy  round  at  O  Toku  San's  home, 
just  off  the  corner  of  the  famous  Denzuin  temple 
grounds.  This  home  had  been  a  temple  in  itself  once, 
and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  Buddhist  worship  was  still 
in  place  in  the  chief  apartment  of  the  building ;  but  with 
the  disappearance  of  the  Shogun  and  the  reappearance 
of  the  Mikado,  the  Government  had  disestablished  Bud- 
dhism, and  the  priests  had  abandoned  many  temples  for 
lack  of  the  funds  needful  to  maintain  them.  O  Toku 
San's  home  was  one  of  these  abandoned  temples.  The 
beautiful  shaft  of  light-brown  stone  standing  by  the 
gateway  declared  that  eaters  of  flesh  and  drinkers  of 

[259] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

wine  must  not  enter  with  the  sacred  precincts ;  but  the 
fair  maid's  father  troubled  little  about  this  ancient 
warning,  and  gave  banquets  almost  every  seventh  day 
with  beef  and  sake  much  in  evidence. 

Allen  was  much  in  evidence  too  on  these  occasions,  and 
most  of  his  spare  moments  between  times  also,  so  that 
his  brethren  at  the  University  took  it  upon  themselves  to 
warn  him  against  the  danger  of  overstudy  in  the  electric 
climate  of  Japan.  They  suspected  the  newcomer  of 
trying  to  break  the  record  made  by  a  young  German 
professor  who  had  learned  to  read,  write,  and  speak  an 
extraordinary  amount  of  Japanese  within  twelve  months, 
and  had  never  been  right  since.  Allen  thanked  them, 
and  said  he  would  knock  off  at  the  first  moment  he  felt 
ill.  Then  he  hired  an  extra  man  for  his  jin-riki-sha  and 
pushed  for  Little  Stone-River  Hill  as  fast  as  he  could 
go.  Getting  into  his  kimono,  he  "  ran  over  "  to  pass 
the  time  until  the  twelve  should  assemble  for  their  con- 
versation lesson. 

It  was  delicious  lying  on  the  porch  there  or  on  the 
soft  mats  just  within,  listening  to  O  Toku  San  as  she 
read  some  favorite  bit  of  foreign  literature  he  had 
brought  to  her,  and  answering  the  questions  she  asked 
of  the  customs  of  the  lands  on  the  other  side  of  the  world. 
And  what  a  tremendous  thing  a  little  question  was  some- 
times— or  its  answer,  rather!  He  had  lived  in  many 
countries  and  had  studied  much,  but  time  and  again 
O  Toku  San  had  him.  His  inheritance  and  hers  had 
been  so  different.  She  would  ask  about  some  chance 
allusion  in  the  text — a  question  that  would  never  occur 

[260] 


WHAT    HAPPENED    TO    ALLEN 

to  a  youth  in  Europe  or  America,  for  it  referred  to  what 
was  of  the  life  there,  which  everyone  in  those  countries 
knew  unconsciously,  and  Allen  would  realize  there  was 
more  in  heredity,  evolution,  and  development  than  he 
had  ever  dreamed  of. 

He  had  made  much  progress  in  Japanese,  but  that  did 
not  aid  him.  Had  he  known  the  sum  total  of  languages 
in  the  Far  East,  his  vocabulary  would  have  been  lacking. 
Intellectually,  she  was  a  child  of  China,  he  of  Greece  and 
Rome  and  the  ancient  Hebrews.  If  their  family  trees 
had  any  roots  in  common,  it  must  have  been  in  the  days 
when  their  ancestors  lived  among  the  branches  with 
foliage  for  clothes.  He  would  go  through  the  history 
of  the  half  of  the  world  he  knew  about,  and  she  would 
listen,  but  it  was  all  so  different  to  the  other  half  whose 
800,000,000  people  and  their  history  he,  like  others, 
treated  almost  flippantly,  that  she  could  scarcely  com- 
prehend, and  she  said  so  sadly. 

"  You  should  go  abroad.  Then  you  would  soon  un- 
derstand," said  Allen,  "  for  you  would  see  with  your 
own  eyes." 

"  I  wish  it  very  much,  but  I  am  only  the  little  Japa- 
nese girl,"  replied  O  Toku  San. 

"  And  why  can't  the  little  Japanese  girl  go  ?  "  asked 
Allen.  "  The  foreigners  won't  eat  you." 

"  No,  I  know  they  are  all  kind,  but  next  year  my 
parents  make  me  a  marriage  and  I  have  not  time  for 
travels.  Japanese  women  must  be  at  home." 

She  spoke  gently,  with  a  low,  sweet  voice,  as  do  all 
women  in  Japan.  There  was  not  a  trace  of  bitterness  in 

[261] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

the  tones,  or  any  intimation  of  complaining.  That 
her  longing  should  be  considered  or  even  noticed  never 
crossed  her  mind.  In  her  day  the  musume  never  had 
such  thoughts. 

Allen  thought  of  none  of  these  things  just  then,  how- 
ever. The  word  "  marriage "  had  hit  him  hard. 
Another  realization  was  upon  him,  and  O  Toku  San  was 
again  the  cause. 

"  No,  you  must  not  marry,"  he  said.  "  You  are  too 
young.  You  must  go  to  Europe  and  to  America  to 
study ;  and  besides,  I  love  you,  and  I  want  you  to  be  my 
wife." 

The  man  of  many  degrees  had  spoken  words  he  would 
have  laughed  to  scorn  an  hour  earlier ;  and  as  for  O  Toku 
San  her  heart  stopped  beating  nearly.  She  looked  at 
Allen  with  such  a  look  as  only  perfect  faith  can  give, 
and  said  slowly: 

"  I  am  very  glad  and  have  greatest  astonishment  you 
care  for  such  foolish  girl  as  I  am  all  the  time.  I  love 
you  by  all  my  heart  because — because — it  is  very  won- 
derful and  how  I  cannot  translate  why,  but  you  are  kind 
and  my  most  best  good  friend." 

That  was  a  long  speech  for  a  Japanese  girl  to  make, 
and  probably  none  ever  made  one  so  long  before.  Allen 
had  taken  her  hand  and  was  saying  many  things,  when 
O  Toku  San's  mother  entered,  saying: 

"  O  Sanji  go  fun  mai  degozaimasa  "  ("  Honorable 
Three  five  minutes  before  augustly-existing  is  ").  And 
with  that  Allen  made  off  for  his  conversation,  and  O 
Toku,  whom  custom  forbade  walking  in  the  streets  with 

[262] 


WHAT    HAPPENED    TO    ALLEN 

a  man  other  than  her  father,  clattered  along  two  minutes 
later. 

The  lesson  was  mostly  with  the  eleven  other  girls  that 
afternoon,  for  Allen  said  hardly  a  word  to  O  Toku  San, 
nor  did  she  ask  questions.  To  his  disgust  the  August 
Sensei  had  to  show  himself  at  an  official  ball  at  the 
Rokumeikwan  that  evening,  so  he  did  not  see  O  Toku 
San  again  until  the  next  midday,  when  to  his  chagrin  her 
mother  sat  out  the  entire  visit.  This  annoyed  him 
seriously,  but  it  seemed  the  old  lady  had  a  purpose  in 
her  presence.  She  had  been  glad  at  first  at  the  kind 
attentions  of  the  foreigner  who  taught  her  daughter  with 
so  much  care,  but  now  she  was  worried.  Falling  in  love 
was  a  thing  she  knew  nothing  about  from  personal  ex- 
perience, but  she  had  heard  of  such  indiscretions,  and 
wished  to  protect  O  Toku  from  any  such  misfortune. 
The  girl  must  marry  soon.  She  had  been  engaged  since 
before  she  was  born,  for  her  father  had  promised  his 
first  daughter  to  a  chum's  first  son  long  ago  when  he 
was  a  student  in  "  The  Bureau  for  the  Investigation  of 
Barbarian  Literature,"  now  grown  into  the  Imperial 
University.  Neither  of  the  young  men  had  married 
then,  but  they  engaged  their  prospective  children  never- 
theless, and  the  engagement  held.  That  it  could  be 
otherwise  was  one  of  those  ideas  that  "  is  not "  in  the 
Japanese  mind,  for  Japanese  society  has  developed  on 
Eastern,  not  on  Western  lines, — and  O  Toku  San's 
mother  wished  to  avoid  entanglements  that  might  make 
the  inevitable  unpleasant. 

She  was  always  about  when  Allen  went  round  to  coach 
[263] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

O  Toku  San  in  the  foreign  language  lessons,  and  she 
told  the  girl  she  must  not  talk  so  much  in  English,  but 
should  use  the  native  Japanese  instead.  She  forgot 
that  language  as  an  instrument  for  the  interchange  of 
thought  might  be  written  as  well  as  spoken,  and  so  said 
not  a  word  against  notes  and  letters.  And  so  a  small 
miracle  came  about.  Allen,  for  once  in  his  life,  became 
a  correspondent  of  decent  regularity.  Written  messages 
passed  each  way  each  day  between  O  Toku  and  himself. 
The  girl  longed  to  become  Allen's  wife,  and  was  doing 
all  in  her  power  to  escape  the' engagement  of  such  long 
standing. 

"  I  am  often  kiss  your  photograph,"  she  declared, 
"  and  wondering,  *  Oh,  where  is  my  lover  ?  '  all  the  time 
you  are  not  by  me." 

This  was  sweet  to  Allen,  but  to  be  so  near  O  Toku  San 
and  yet  have  her  always  out  of  reach  was  tantalizing.  It 
began  to  tell  on  him.  He  saw  he  must  have  a  change 
of  scene  or  break  down  altogether.  He  told  his  friends 
at  the  University  that  he  was  going  to  the  interior  to 
investigate  the  subject  of  land-tenure  in  several  of  the 
provinces.  He  would  have  carried  O  Toku  San  with  him 
had  she  been  willing  to  elope.  She  would  not  go,  but 
at  the  moment  of  his  leave-taking,  when  her  mother  had 
slipped  into  the  next  room  for  an  instant  to  get  a  fresh 
cup  of  tea,  she  said  to  him: 

"  When  you  are  in  the  country,  please  have  a  house- 
keeper to  look  after  you,  and  I  will  look  upon  her  as  my 
sister." 

She  was  in  bed  three  days  with  what  the  doctors  called 
[264] 


WHAT    HAPPENED    TO    ALLEN 

"  Shinkei-byo "  (nerve-sickness)  after  he  had  gone. 
Prescriptions  did  no  good;  but  the  postman  who  called 
when  the  mother  happened  to  be  at  the  market  worked 
a  cure  that  anyone  but  a  Christian  Scientist  would  have 
marveled  at.  Perhaps  he  was  a  Buddhist  Scientist. 
Regular  correspondence  between  the  lovers,  however,  was 
hard  to  manage,  owing  to  maternal  vigilance,  and  in  a 
few  months  Allen  was  back  again  to  see  if  progress  had 
been  made  in  the  destruction  of  that  engagement. 

He  found  that  O  Toku  San  had  not  yet  seen  the  man 
she  was  engaged  to,  but  that,  so  far  as  she  had  ventured 
to  ascertain,  her  father's  intention  as  to  the  marriage 
had  not  altered,  and  her  mother's  mind  of  course  was 
"  inside  "  her  father's. 

More  land-tenure  then,  thought  Allen,  and  was  about 
leaving  for  the  interior  a  second  time,  when  a  cable  called 
him  to  America.  Someone  was  dead,  and  there  were 
affairs  in  the  Northwest  that  demanded  his  immediate 
attention.  He  had  just  time  to  catch  his  steamer,  but 
he  sent  a  note  of  love  and  explanation  to  O  Toku  San  by 
a  friend,  and  wrote  to  her  soon  after  his  arrival  in  Seattle, 
telling  her  of  certain  moneys  he  had  come  into,  and 
asking  her  to  wait  patiently  a  little,  when  he  would  be 
able  to  return  to  Japan  to  get  her — his  own  little  girl 
forever. 

Six  weeks  later  came  this  reply: 

"  SIR, — I  am  married,  and  is  called  Mrs.  Sodesuka. 
And  by  our  Japanese  morality  and  my  natural  tempera- 
ment I  decline  for  ever  your  impliteness  letter, 

"  SODESUKA  O  TOKU.'* 
[265] 


CHAPTER    THIRTY-THREE 

THE  SPORTSMAN  IN  JAPAN 

WE  were  sitting  round  the  charcoal  fire  glowing 
in  a  huge  hibachi  at  the  Jobagwaisha  one 
crisp  autumn  morning,  drinking  "  tea  "  made 
from  roasted  wheat,  and  waiting  for  the  betto  to  bring 
our  horses  out.  A  jolly  place  it  was  in  those  days,  but 
the  Hachioji  railway  station  has  obliterated  all  trace 
of  it. 

As  we  prodded  the  coals  and  sipped  the  tea  we  dis- 
cussed plans  for  the  morrow.  Suddenly  Count  Kuro, 
our  champion  rider,  and  own  cousin  of  Pokan  no  Kade, 
went  out  on  the  "  engawa,"  the  narrow  veranda  that  ran 
along  the  edge  of  the  lounging  rooms  of  the  Riding 
Association,  and  pointed  towards  the  east.  "  Ducks !  " 
he  shouted ;  "  now  I  know  what  we  can  do  to-morrow." 

"  What  may  that  be?  "  asked  a  lean,  bright-eyed  man 
in  a  suit  of  foreign  clothes  that  had  done  duty  in  an 
American  university  years  before,  and  now  pretty  well 
disguised  the  fact  that  he  was  a  Vice-Minister  of  State. 
He  watched  the  couple  of  broad  V's  in  the  distance  sail- 
ing south  towards  Kobe,  as  Kuro  waved  towards  them, 
and  said,  "  Those  are  ducks  without  doubt,  but  we  cannot 
get  at  them." 

"  Oh !  they  are  quite  safe  as  far  as  any  one  of  us  is 
concerned,"  said  Kuro ;  "  but  there  is  no  reason  why  we 

[266] 


THE    SPORTSMAN    IN    JAPAN 

should  not  have  some  others  if  you  like.  To-morrow  will 
be  Nichiyobi,  and  after  we  have  done  riding  in  the  rings 
here  why  not  stay  on  our  horses  until  we  reach  my  mis- 
erable hovel  in  the  country.  It's  only  a  little  farther 
than  Oji,  as  you  may  do  me  the  honor  to  remember.  We 
can  make  it  in  time  for  lunch,  and  then  try  the  nets  so 
long  as  the  light  holds." 

Not  one  of  us  said  "  no  " ;  so  the  next  morning,  after 
we  had  done  our  prettiest  work  with  the  extra  maneuvers 
that  Nichiyobi  always  brought,  we  took  to  the  road 
through  Ueno  and  Komagome  to  Oji,  and  in  less  than 
two  hours  reached  the  "  miserable  hovel."  I  wish  all  our 
homes  were  as  miserable.  It  is  not  overstating  the  case 
to  say  that  the  misery  we  saw  there  and  underwent  per- 
sonally we  were  able  to  endure  without  a  murmur.  It 
was  one  of  the  places  Kuro's  father,  the  Governor  of 
Tokio,  had  handed  over  to  his  son  on  retiring  from  office 
and  becoming  inkiyo.  The  house  was  low,  and  rambled 
along  three  sides  of  a  parallelogram.  It  stood  near  the 
center  of  a  piece  of  land  that  measured  some  fifty  thou- 
sands of  tsubo.  There  were  miniature  lakes  well  stocked 
with  fish,  a  stream  in  which  in  springtime  one  found 
trout,  a  house  for  the  especial  purpose  of  drinking  tea, 
various  gardens  for  flowers  in  the  different  seasons,  a 
splendid  collection  of  kiku,  and  away  down  in  a  corner, 
half  a  mile  from  the  "  hovel,"  the  duck-pond. 

Here  we  gathered  after  lunch.  There  must  have  been 
a  couple  of  hundred  ducks  in  the  pond,  but  there  was 
quite  room  enough  for  them,  and  evidently  they  had  not 
lacked  for  sustenance.  If  they  had  wished  to  seek  for 

[267] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

better  board  and  lodgings  elsewhere  they  could  not  do  so, 
for  the  pond  was  in  a  cage. 

Two  of  Kuro's  helpers  entered  this  cage  as  we  arrived, 
and  stepped  into  small  punts.  Then  they  poled  along 
the  edge  of  the  pond  and  raised  several  gates,  which 
opened  into  canals  leading  out  from  the  cage  in  various 
directions.  Kuro  gave  each  of  us  a  net  on  the  end  of  a 
pole,  much  like  a  fisherman's  landing-net,  and  stationed 
us  at  points  on  opposite  sides  of  the  canals.  When  we 
were  in  position  he  called  out  "  Yoroshiii ! "  and  a  great 
quacking  and  fluttering  began.  The  men  in  the  punts 
drove  the  ducks  as  best  they  might  up  to  the  gates  and 
through  into  the  canals.  It  was  not  an  easy  job  for  the 
drivers,  for  many  of  the  birds  were  shy  of  the  openings, 
but  enough  came  through  to  keep  us  men  busy  with  our 
nets. 

Our  trick  was  to  land  them  either  as  they  swam,  or 
on  the  wing  as  they  rose  out  of  the  canals.  The  ease 
and  the  difficulty  of  doing  this  depend  much  on  the  depth 
and  the  width  of  the  canal,  on  the  netter's  skill,  and  on 
the  ducks.  There  were  seven  of  us,  and  we  caught  be- 
tween forty  and  fifty  before  sundown.  Some  we  put 
back  in  the  cage  again,  and  the  others  we  in  due  course 
incorporated.  Kuro  had  given  his  steward  a  word 
before  we  came  down  to  the  pond,  with  the  result  that 
when  we  reached  the  house  with  our  bags  the  "  hovel " 
looked  more  like  the  stage  setting  for  an  old  Greek  drama 
than  like  a  gentleman's  country  residence.  Another 
feast  confronted  us. 

"  Condescend  to  drink  a  cupful,"  said  Kuro  to  me 
[268] 


THE    SPORTSMAN    IN    JAPAN 

when  the  first  dance  was  over,  and  he  handed  sake  cups 
to  Gardner  and  to  me  from  a  basin  of  water  before  him 
where  they  had  been  floating.  We  condescended  and  so 
did  he.  Then  he  said: 

"  That  was  rather  easy  work  this  afternoon,  just 
enough  to  finish  off  a  lunch  with  and  make  one  ready  for 
a  bit  of  supper.  I  wish  you  two  would  come  with  me 
to  my  uncle's  on  the  west  coast,  to  see  how  they  net  ducks 
there.  It  is  more  interesting;  and  Fukui,  near  where  he 
lives,  is  a  famous  town.  It  was  in  that  country,  in 
ancient  times,  that  the  Chinese  and  Korean  embassies 
used  to  arrive.  If  you  come,  you  will  learn  something  of 
our  history  and  our  wild  ducks  too."  Such  a  combina- 
tion of  easily-to-be-obtained  knowledge  was  irresistible. 
Off  we  went. 

Kuro's  uncle  was  a  fine  old  samurai — a  knight  of  the 
days  gone  by,  who  had  fought  for  the  restoration.  He 
proved  to  us  that  hospitality  was  every  whit  as  warm  in 
Fukui  as  in  Tokio.  The  day  after  our  arrival  he  gave 
us  a  lesson  in  "  Sakudori,"  as  he  called  netting  for  ducks. 
Kuro  knew  all  about  it,  but  he  paid  as  much  attention  to 
his  uncle's  discourse  as  if  he  had  never  heard  of  the  art 
before.  Then  the  old  gentleman  took  us  up  over  the 
hills  near  his  home  and  showed  us  the  positions  that  the 
hunters  take  when  waiting  for  the  ducks  either  in  the 
evening  or  the  early  morning.  Small  posts,  each  with  a 
number,  marked  these  positions. 

"  You  see  the  ducks  come  up  this  way  in  the  morning 
and  from  the  opposite  direction  in  the  evening.  They 
always  go  over  these  hills.  It  has  been  their  custom  ever 

[269] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

since  the  hills  were  here.  Our  plan  for  their  capture  is 
simply  to  intercept  them.  I  will  explain  better  to-night, 
when  several  of  my  friends  will  be  here  from  the  Duck 
Club  that  has  leased  these  hills.  Watching  them,  and 
trying  as  they  try,  will  soon  teach  you  all  there  is  to 
know.  You  see  these  numbers  on  the  posts.  They  corre- 
spond with  numbers  on  little  wooden  tickets  which  the 
members  have.  A  member  has  the  same  ticket  for  two 
mornings  and  two  nights,  then  he  changes  with  another 
member — and  so  on  in  rotation,  so  that  no  one  member 
may  have  too  many  chances  at  a  good  stand  or  too  many 
absences  of  chances  at  a  poor  stand." 

About  four  o'clock  that  afternoon  twenty  of  us  set  out, 
all  in  native  dress,  with  straw  sandals,  straw  rain-coats, 
straw  leggings,  and  huge  straw  hats  like  umbrellas,  that 
fitted  to  our  heads  with  a  bamboo  framework  and  tied 
under  our  chins.  When  squatted  on  the  ground  we 
looked  like  small  ricks  of  straw  that  not  even  a  duck 
would  suspect.  Our  weapons  looked  like  fish-poles,  but 
they  were  not.  They  were  slender  masts  on  which  we 
hung  nets,  much  as  the  square  sails  are  rigged  to  the 
mast  of  a  ship.  We  set  out  with  our  poles  over  our 
shoulders,  like  a  band  of  spearmen  in  feudal  times,  and 
with  a  half-dozen  attendants  with  stacks  of  lacquered 
boxes  full  of  things  the  kitchen-folk  had  been  preparing 
all  the  day. 

"  When  you  see  the  ducks,"  said  Kuro,  after  we  had 
taken  our  places,  "  get  your  pole  ready  to  toss  up,  and 
be  sure  you  don't  have  the  edge  of  the  net  turned  towards 
the  birds.  Have  it  spread  out  wide,  and  throw  it  square 

[270] 


THE    SPORTSMAN    IN    JAPAN 

in  front  of  them.  As  soon  as  you  can  judge  their  speed 
and  direction  you'll  be  all  right.  There  they  come !  Be 
ready." 

We  were  all  crouched  low  with  our  hands  on  our  poles, 
and  a  minute  later  the  air  was  full  of  nets  and  a  tremen- 
dous clatter  of  quacks.  Four  nets  had  been  successful, 
and  had  performed  the  act  of  interception  to  a  nicety. 
One  of  the  nets  went  far  afield,  however,  it  having  met  a 
duck  that  was  a  drake,  and  a  right  lusty  one  he  was,  for 
he  gave  the  attendants  a  chase  of  over  a  mile.  I  learned 
how  not  to  throw  sideways,  and  once  came  very  near 
landing  a  beauty.  Gardner  had  actually  caught  a  drake, 
while  Kuro  had  three  and  uncle  five,  the  largest  number 
anyone  had,  but  luck  had  favored  him  with  a  "  double," 
a  very  rare  occurrence, — one  bird  following  another 
directly  into  the  net. 

The  next  day  Kuro  said,  "  Suppose  we  go  over  to 
Soko  and  shoot  some  *  yama  kujira.'  There's  good 
pheasant  shooting  too.  The  farmers  would  be  grateful 
to  you  for  killing  kujira,  for  they  do  so  much  damage 
to  the  crops.  It's  a  wheat  country  over  there,  you  see, 
and  the  fields  have  fences  all  about  to  keep  the  kujira 
out.  You'll  seldom  see  a  fence  on  farms  anywhere  else 
in  Japan.  We  can  put  up  at  Hongwanji  temples.  I 
know  some  of  the  priests.  In  fact  some  of  them  arc 
relations  of  mine,  and  you,  being  a  foreigner,  will  be 
doubly  welcome.  Most  of  the  folk  in  Soko  have  never 
seen  a  foreigner." 

All  the  time  he  was  talking,  Gardner  and  I  had  been 
wondering  what  "  yama  kujira  "  could  mean.  "  Kujira  " 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

meant  whale,  and  "  yama "  meant  mountain.  What 
could  whales  be  doing  in  wheat -fields  or  on  mountains? 
Impossible,  of  course.  So  I  said: 

"  Kuro,  my  honorable  friend,  you  have  deigned  to 
make  the  august  joke." 

"  What !  you  don't  know  mountain  whale  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  That  is  very  famous  wherever  there  is  Buddhism  in 
Japan.  It  is  an  old  name,  fifteen  hundred  years  per- 
haps. The  first  Buddhist  priests  here  tired  of  the  same 
kind  of  fish  and  vegetables  every  day  without  any  meat, 
and  one  of  them  discovered  a  way  to  escape  from  so  much 
monotony.  '  It  is  wrong  to  eat  flesh,'  he  said,  '  but  to 
eat  whale  is  lawful.  We  will  call  deer  mountain  whale 
and  then  we  may  eat  venison  as  much  as  we  like.'  So  he 
began,  and  many  others  followed  his  example." 

Soko  proved  to  be  as  interesting  as  Kuro  had  sug- 
gested. "  Whales  "  were  plentiful,  and  pheasants  also, 
while  the  Hongwanji  priests  offered  us  more  hospitality 
that  it  was  possible  to  accept.  Every  temple  we  came 
to  had  a  "  matsuri  "  on  the  day  of  our  arrival.  We  had 
never  seen  so  many  festivals  consecutively.  It  was 
Kuro's  doing,  I  fancy,  though  he  would  not  own  up  to  it. 
From  Soko  we  went  up  into  the  mountains  and  tried  for 
bear  and  wild  boar.  We  had  some  luck  with  them  and 
plenty  of  excitement.  Some  of  the  native  hunters  are 
extremely  skillful  with  their  spears.  We  met  one  who 
had  run  as  high  as  sixty  for  his  winter's  work. 

New  Year  saw  us  in  Tokio,  but  we  came  back  to  the 
west  coast  again  for  fishing  and  for  monkeys.  We  knew 
the  salmon  fishing  already.  It  is  quite  the  same  in  Japan 


THE    SPORTSMAN    IN    JAPAN 

as  it  is  in  England,  and  the  trout  fishing,  too,  though 
Kuro  had  a  way  of  using  small  fish  as  decoys  that  was 
interesting. 

"  I'll  coax  them,"  he  said  one  day  when  we  had  made 
several  casts  and  got  nothing.  He  took  a  hand-net  and 
went  to  a  bit  of  a  stream  that  flowed  into  the  one  we  were 
whipping.  Presently  he  cried,  "  Now  we're  ready.  See 
what  these  will  do,"  and  he  showed  me  wiggly  things 
the  size  of  whitebait.  "  I'll  just  put  a  bit  of  black 
thread  to  each  of  them,"  he  continued,  "  let  them  down 
the  brook,  and  draw  them  up  a  few  times  and  we  shall 
have  something  large  enough  to  eat."  He  was  a  prophet, 
for  two  hours  later  we  had  a  mess  that  sufficed  not  only 
for  ourselves,  but  for  the  entire  household  of  the  temple 
in  which  we  were  staying. 

The  fishing  we  enjoyed  most,  however,  was  down  Gifu 
way.  "  I'll  show  you  an  old  Japanese  custom  for  night- 
fishing  which  perhaps  you  cannot  see  in  England,"  re- 
marked Kuro  as  we  journeyed  south.  "  We  have  not 
packs  of  hounds  for  hunting  like  the  English,  because 
we  cannot  ride  in  paddy-fields,  but  we  have  packs  of 
birds  for  fishing:  cormorants  you  call  them.  It  is  an 
old  custom,  for  our  most  ancient  poetry  speaks  of  it. 
The  birds  know  the  business  well,  as  you  will  see.  They 
have  good  training." 

Indeed  they  had.  We  were  out  in  a  boat  on  the  river 
the  next  night  with  a  bonfire  at  one  end  of  the  craft  and 
a  screamy,  squawking  lot  of  cormorants  in  the  water 
about  us,  which  two  men  kept  hold  of  by  means  of  reins 
of  spruce  fiber,  guided  them,  yelling  and  splashing  at 

[273] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

them  with  sticks,  disentangling  them  when  they  got  too 
badly  mixed  up,  and  unloading  them  when  their  pouches 
were  quite  filled.  Each  bird  had  a  ring  round  its  neck 
Avhich  prevented  it  swallowing  all  but  the  smaller  fishes, 
and  a  band  round  its  body  with  a  handle  at  the  top  with 
which  to  lift  it  in  and  out  of  the  water.  The  men  with 
the  reins  had  their  hands  full,  for  they  had  sixteen  hun- 
gry, excited  birds  to  manage  which  dived  and  flopped  in 
sixteen  directions  at  once.  The  fire  at  the  bow  was  the 
bait  that  brought  the  fish  to  the  surface  of  the  water  in 
reach  of  the  fatal  beaks  which  gobbled  them  in  at  an 
astounding  rate — the  birds  averaging  over  a  hundred 
fishes  an  hour  for  the  three  hours  we  were  out.  Kuro  was 
in  great  glee,  for  the  weird  appeals  to  him.  "  If  we  could 
only  photograph  by  torchlight !  "  he  cried.  But  there 
was  not  much  of  the  definiteness  required  in  a  picture. 
The  water  was  dark,  and  the  birds  were  dark  all  but 
their  necks.  The  men  handling  the  birds  were  merely 
silhouetted  against  the  beacon.  What  light  there  was 
was  fitful,  and  cast  the  blackest  of  shadows,  that  lost 
themselves  in  the  near  distance.  We  ourselves  could  not 
see  the  fish  till  the  cormorants  brought  them  up.  We 
had  a  fine  mess  by  the  time  we  had  gone  the  course,  and 
were  thoroughly  gratified  with  our  experience,  but  per- 
sonally I  should  rather  keep  hounds  than  cormorants, 
having  a  prejudice  against  some  odors. 

The  monkeys  were  the  easiest  game  imaginable.  The 
weapon  used  has  laid  many  a  good  man  low,  but  it  is  not 
a  gun — it  is  sake.  Monkeys  like  sake  quite  as  well  as 
men  like  it,  and,  like  some  men,  they  do  not  know  when 


THE    SPORTSMAN    IN    JAPAN 

they  have  had  enough.  Kuro,  Gardner,  and  I  went  into 
the  hills  with  a  guide  who  had  a  three-gallon  cask  of  sake 
on  his  back  and  a  dozen  cups  made  from  gourds.  When 
we  came  to  monkey  town  the  guide  set  the  bowls  about 
under  various  trees  and  poured  into  each  an  inch  or  so 
of  sake.  Then  we  retired.  I  wished  to  stay  by  to  watch, 
but  the  guide  said  if  I  did  so  the  monkeys  would  know 
it,  and  I  might  wait  until  my  beard  grew  to  the  ground 
— I  should  never  see  one.  Probably  he  was  right.  At 
any  rate  when  we  returned  we  found  four  monkeys  fast 
asleep  and  the  twelve  cups  empty. 


[275] 


CHAPTER    THIRTY-FOUR 

THE  FATHER  OF  THE  VILLAGE' 

IT  is  hard  to  give  up  the  fine  things  one  is  going  to 
do — to  leave  the  "  big  road  "  and  hide  one's  self 
among  the  bypaths,  but  it  is  harder  to  give  up  what 
one  has  already  accomplished — the  thing  that  is  done, 
which  is  a  real  possession ;  to  give  up  the  fruits  of  a  long 
life;  to  lay  aside  a  just  reward  when  age  has  come  upon 
one  and  it  is  too  late  to  begin  again. 

But  in  Japan  men  can  do  this.  Here  is  an  instance. 
Gardner,  Okashi,  and  I  heard  it  one  night  from  an  aged 
fisherman  whose  grandfather  was  among  the  saved.  It 
is  the  story  of  an  old  man  who  gave  up  what  he  had  to 
save  others,  and  afterwards  the  people  worshiped  him. 
The  fisherman  said  the  birth  of  this  old  hero  was  at  a 
time  of  good  omen. 

"  Shiawase  no  hito  "  (one  of  those  who  are  fortunate)  ; 
all  the  women  said  so,  and  they  knew  everything  there 
was  to  know  about  babies.  Therefore  was  it  true  that 
the  small,  wrinkled,  reddish  thing  given  to  the  house  of 

i  The  actual  occurrence  this  story  describes  tells  something  of  the 
native  character.  Lafcadio  Hearn,  whose  wonderful  sympathy 
with  the  Far  East  has  given  him  so  clear  an  insight  to  the  soul  of 
Japan,  as  well  as  a  knowledge  of  the  mind  and  of  the  spiritual 
aspirations  of  the  people  altogether  unique,  has  used  the  incident 
in  another  guise  in  a  delightful  chapter. 

[276] 


THE    FATHER    OF    THE    VILLAGE 

Hamaguchi  early  one  morning,  ere  the  great  round  har- 
vest moon  had  set,  was  lucky.  To  be  born  by  the  light 
of  the  harvest  moon  is  to  be  favored  of  the  gods.  "  li 
ambai,"  said  the  old  women ;  "  the  way  that  is  well  " — 
which  was  the  whole  truth.  After  that  each  household 
in  the  hamlet  understood  the  newcomer  was  "  shiawase 
no  hito." 

Hamaguchi  no  Bochan  was  a  rare  baby.  Not  because 
he  seldom  cried — all  Japanese  babies  are  too  happy  to 
cry;  or  because  he  was  gentle,  for  in  this  he  was  like 
all  other  merry,  almond-eyed  youngsters  in  the  land 
where  the  sun  rises ;  or  was  it  because  he  never  had  the 
colic,  or  fussed  about  his  teeth,  or  kept  a  maid  busy 
putting  things  right  and  cleaning  up  round  the  house 
and  grounds  wherever  he  had  been.  He  was  just  like  the 
other  Japanese  babies  in  these  things  too.  But  he  had 
a  baby  dignity  and  wisdom  that  marked  him. 

He  had  as  much  fun  as  the  j  oiliest  of  his  playmates, 
who  numbered  probably  a  hundred.  He  was  in  all  the 
games,  and  in  all  the  mischief  too;  but  somehow  he  was 
there  as  master,  one  whom  the  rest  acknowledged.  He 
did  not  squabble.  Not  even  when  he  came  to  be  a  big 
boy,  large  enough  to  stand  up  with  an  oar  in  the  sharp- 
pointed  fishing-boats,  did  he  order  others  about;  but, 
nevertheless,  the  others  did  as  he  wished,  and  they  liked 
to  do  so.  It  is  not  strange,  then,  that  when  he  had  grown 
to  be  a  man  and  was  the  head  of  the  Hamaguchi  house- 
hold, the  people  of  the  village  made  him  their  chief  or 
mayor. 

As  a  husbandman  he  prospered.  He  raised  rice  for 
[277] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

the  villagers,  whose  chief  business  was  on  the  sea,  and 
they  paid  him  in  kind,  for  money  was  scarce  in  those 
days.  What  there  was,  was  mostly  in  the  strong  box 
of  the  daimiyo  of  the  province.  This  daimiyo  owned  all 
the  villages  within  the  boundaries  of  his  dominion.  The 
rice  the  farmers  raised,  and  all  the  fish  that  men  caught 
in  their  nets,  were  his.  Whatever  portion  he  was  pleased 
to  allow  them  they  took,  and  the  rest  he  held  as  taxes 
to  maintain  himself,  his  castles,  and  his  fighting-men. 

The  head  of  the  house  of  Hamaguchi  grew  rice  on 
thousands  of  tsubo  of  the  daimiyo's  land,  and  paid  him 
many  koku  of  his  produce  at  harvest  time  in  tithes  and 
rents  and  tributes,  but  the  koku  that  remained  to  the 
choja  were  more  than  the  portion  of  any  other  person  in 
the  village.  A  koku  of  rice  in  those  days  was  well-nigh 
the  year's  income  of  some  folk,  though  it  seems  hard  a 
man  should  have  to  live  twelve  months  on  what  he  can 
sell  five  bushels  of  grain  for  in  the  market. 

But  the  chief  of  the  village  was  generous  with  his 
abundance,  and  gave  freely  to  those  who  had  not;  so 
freely,  indeed,  that  at  each  year's  end  when  the  day  of 
accounting  came  he  found  he  had  used  all  the  yielding 
of  his  fields — the  greater  part  had  gone  to  the  daimiyo 
and  the  rest  to  his  household  and  to  the  other  villagers. 

This  was  so,  no  matter  how  large  the  harvest  might 
be,  but  it  did  not  matter,  the  chief  did  not  think  of  it. 
He  was  a  favored  one.  Always,  both  in  spring  and 
autumn,  his  crops  were  good;  always  he  had  enough  to 
satisfy  even  the  steward  of  the  great  lord  who  ruled  the 
province,  enough  for  his  home,  and  for  all  who  called 

[278] 


THE    FATHER    OF    THE    VILLAGE 

him  chief.  So  as  "  shiawase  no  hito  "  the  folk  spoke 
of  him  who  was  now  the  father  of  fair  daughters  and 
brave  sons — a  man  of  dignity  and  gentleness  and  wis- 
dom, who  ruled  the  village  well  and  served  his  daimiyo 
loyally. 

What  more  could  he  be?  He  certainly  had  no  thought 
of  anything.  His  people's  happiness  was  all  he  cared 
for.  Nor  could  those  who  knew  him  believe  he  had  not 
all  that  a  dweller  in  a  humble  fishing  village  could  ac- 
quire. But  greater  honor  came  upon  him,  nevertheless. 
He  became  a  god,  and  his  people  worshiped  him. 

It  was  when  he  was  well  along  in  years,  a  gray-haired 
man,  in  the  evening  of  his  days.  On  an  evening  of  this 
evening  he  did  the  great  deed  of  his  life.  Although  for 
a  long  time  he  had  been  "  inkiyo,"  or  retired,  and  his 
son  had  succeeded  to  the  active  head  of  the  household, 
he  was  too  much  alive  to  give  himself  up  to  poetry  and 
meditation,  and  had  continued  to  be  the  head  of  village 
affairs  and  to  oversee  the  rice  fields  rented  from  the  dai- 
miyo. 

It  was  again  the  time  of  the  harvest  moon,  near  four- 
score years  since  the  old  women  had  stood  by  and  greeted 
him  with  prophecies  of  the  favors  that  should  be  his 
through  life.  The  crops  were  in,  and  the  yellow  stacks 
stood  high  about  the  home  of  the  village  chief  near  the 
temple  on  the  hill.  There  was  a  festival  in  the  village 
in  honor  of  the  Goddess  of  Good  Luck — she  of  the  round, 
merry,  dimpled  face,  and  of  the  Gods  of  Wealth  and 
Plenty — corpulent  deities  with  fat  ears,  koku  of  rice 
stacked  high,  and  piles  of  gold  pieces. 

[279] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

The  fishermen  and  the  few  who  were  farmers,  with 
their  wives  and  families,  and  the  singing  and  dancing 
girls,  or  geisha,  were  making  merry  within  and  round 
about  their  sacred  tera,  high  -above  the  beach,  when 
someone  cried,  "  Look  for  a  moment,  the  tide  is  gone  far 
out !  "  And  so  it  was,  and  seemed  going  farther  still. 
Everyone  arose,  and,  after  wondering  for  a  moment,  ran 
down  to  the  beach  below  and  far  out  towards  the  reced- 
ing waters. 

That  is,  everyone  went  down  but  the  chief  of  the 
village.  He  was  old,  and  besides  he  knew  something  of 
low  tides  and  that  they  boded  ill  for  the  coast  where  they 
appeared.  "  This  ebb  was  so  very  low,  what  would  the 
return  of  the  waters  be  ?  "  he  thought  to  himself. 

Though  the  moon  was  up,  that  glorious  golden  moon 
in  the  deep,  full  blue  sky  of  Japan,  the  sun  hardly  had 
set,  and  the  last  rays  still  flitted  lingeringly  across  the 
bosom  of  the  sea.  The  old  man  looked  down  and  saw 
his  people  away  out  beyond  the  natural  limits  of  the 
beach.  He  could  hear  their  shouts  and  laughter — deaf- 
ness is  rare  even  with  the  aged  in  Japan — and  his  heart 
was  heavy  with  fear.  He  looked  towards  the  spot  where 
the  sun  had  set,  and  away  almost  to  the  horizon,  it 
seemed,  was  a  fine  strip  of  light  that  glistened  and 
moved  towards  him. 

"  The  wave !  "  he  said ;  "  the  wave !  "  And  so  it  was,  a 
great  wave  coming  to  the  shore,  a  wave  so  great  it  had 
sucked  the  sea  away  from  the  land  and  piled  it  up  in 
a  wall  like  a  mountain  range.  It  was  a  tidal-wave,  such 
as  an  earthquake  beneath  the  waters  of  the  ocean  makes 

[280] 


THE    FATHER    OF    THE    VILLAGE 

sometimes  and  sends  against  the  coast  to  smite  it  as  the 
very  wrath  of  God. 

This  is  what  the  chief  saw,  and  he  saw,  too,  that  be- 
fore he  could  climb  down  with  his  aged  limbs  and  reach 
his  people  to  give  them  warning,  that  awful  wall  of  water 
would  be  upon  them  and  they  would  be  lost.  There  was 
no  time  to  think — only  to  act. 

He  was  standing  by  the  house  in  which  he  had  lived 
since  he  was  born.  Almost  touching  the  walls,  on  the 
windward  side,  were  the  stacks  of  rice  his  sons  and  their 
helpers  had  finished  harvesting  the  day  before.  There 
were  the  portions  for  the  lord  of  the  province  and  for 
his  own  use  and  for  the  needy  ones.  All  of  this  he  must 
have,  to  settle  the  accounts  of  the  business  of  the  year. 
To  have  this  grain  threshed  and  safely  in  the  village 
warehouse  meant  prosperity  and  comfort;  but  in  a  mo- 
ment it  was  crackling  fiercely,  blazing  high  over  the  hill- 
top, and  sending  a  glare  down  upon  the  startled  vil- 
lagers below,  who  turned  together  as  one  person  and 
rushed  landward,  looking  up  and  crying  that  their  choja 
was  burning  in  his  house  and  must  be  saved. 

Great  was  their  amazement  when  they  reached  the  hill- 
top to  see  the  old  man  standing  by  watching  the  fire 
calmly  as  it  consumed  his  home  and  the  produce  of  his 
fields — leaving  him  without  a  roof  to  shelter  him  and 
making  him  a  debtor  to  his  lord  for  the  remainder  of  his 
years.  A  charred  bamboo  pole  was  in  his  hands,  which 
he  had  used  to  feed  the  flames.  The  people  thought  him 
mad. 

He  had  not  looked  up  at  their  coming,  so  busy  he  had 
[281] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

been,  but  now  he  turned  toward  them  and  pointed  to  the 
sea.  They  were  dumb,  but  had  they  all  cried  at  once, 
and  to  their  utmost,  their  voices  would  not  have  sounded 
even  in  their  own  ears.  The  waters  had  returned,  and  the 
crested  wave,  reaching  up  thirty  feet  above  the  beach, 
had  broken,  washing  away  the  fishers'  huts  along  the 
shore  as  houses  built  of  cards  would  go.  It  receded  and 
returned,  and  again  drew  back  to  flood  a  third  time. 
When  it  had  finished  this  last  assault,  night  was  upon  the 
place  and  the  village  had  disappeared.  The  harvest 
moon  looked  down  on  a  place  where  one  had  been,  and 
upon  a  crowd  of  frightened  fisherfolk  huddled  round  the 
ruins  of  the  home  of  an  old  man  for  whom,  later,  when 
they  had  recovered  from  their  wonder  and  had  mort- 
gaged their  belongings,  they  built  a  temple  and  wor- 
shiped as  Hamaguchi  Daimiyojin.  So  was  he,  even  at 
the  last,  "  shiawase  no  hito." 


[282] 


CHAPTER    THIRTY-FIVE 

THE  THEFT  OF  THE  GOLDEN  SCALE 

OKASHI  KINTARO  was  gazing  into  his  sake 
cup  reflectively.  It  was  a  cup  with  pictures  on 
it — two  views  of  the  same  subject;  the  front 
presentation  on  the  inside  of  the  cup,  and  the  other  on 
the  bottom — a  cup  such  as  you  have  sometimes  when 
cooling  on  the  dry  bed  of  Kamogawa  in  Kiyoto  if  you 
happen  to  be  on  good  terms  with  those  who  serve  you, 
but  which  you  never  leave  with  your  other  curios  for 
Custom  House  inspection  on  reaching  home. 

"  That  inside  picture  seems  to  interest  you,"  said 
Gardner.  "Do  you  recognize  the  face?"  The  reply 
and  the  story  following  Okashi  told  in  language  all  his 
own,  to  this  effect: 

"  The  countenance  resembles  that  of  Daredesuka's 
sweetheart,  but  I  never  saw  it  on  a  sake  cup  before." 

"Daredesuka?" 

"  Yes,  the  man  who  tried  to  steal  gold  from  the  shachi 
hoko  on  the  tenshu  in  Nagoya." 

"  The  which  on  the  what?  " 

"  The  great  gold  dolphins  on  the  ends  of  the  ridge  of 
Nagoya  Castle.  General  Kato  Kiyomasa  put  them  up 
there  nearly  three  hundred  years  ago,  quite  out  of  harm's 
way  you  would  think." 

"  Yes,  I  remember  you  pointed  out  the  fishes  a  little 
[283] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

before  we  reached  Nagoya  Station  on  our  way  through; 
but  tell  us  about  Daredesuka  and  his  sweetheart.  What 
did  they  do?" 

"  Daredesuka  was  a  samurai  who  had  been  with  the 
daimiyo  of  Kaga  once,  and  had  won  fame  as  a  great 
swordsman.  But  when  the  daimiyo  died  Daredesuka 
became  '  ronin ' ;  that  is,  a  samurai  without  a  master. 
He  went  about  teaching  fencing,  and  sometimes  winning 
prizes  in  contests  before  distinguished  folk,  but  never 
getting  established  anywhere.  He  was  too  fond  of 
roaming.  He  used  to  practice  with  his  sword  on  all  the 
forked  limbs  of  trees  that  he  could  reach,  and  also  on  the 
wild  dogs  that  are  as  dangerous  as  wolves  on  the  west 
coast  roads.  It  is  said  that  once  when  robbers  tried  to 
take  him  he  cut  through  two  bodies  with  a  single  stroke, 
and  that  the  other  robbers,  seeing  this,  ran  away,  crying 
that  he  was  an  '  Oni '  (demon),  not  a  man. 

"  In  time  he  came  to  Kiyoto,  which  was  a  larger  city 
then,  and  was  the  home  of  the  Tenshi,  our  Emperor. 
The  Shogun  lived  in  Yedo — this  was  a  long  time  before 
the  name  was  changed  to  Tokio.  Soon  after  Darede- 
suka arrived,  the  Shogun  came  down  to  Kiyoto  to  see 
the  Tenshi.  He  had  to  come  once  a  year,  according  to 
ancient  custom.  Of  course  this  meant  a  great  deal  of 
preparation.  The  ceremonies  were  elaborate,  and  the 
court  nobles,  who  usually  were  poor,  made  money  by 
teaching  the  proper  etiquette  to  the  Shogun's  officers. 
Geisha  were  busy  in  all  the  tea-houses,  and  gathered  gold 
pieces  enough  to  last  them  a  whole  month,  which  is  a  long 
time  when  speaking  of  geisha.  There  were  all  sorts  of 

[284] 


THEFT    OF    THE    GOLDEN    SCALE 

sport  too — polo,  archery  on  horseback,  fencing,  and 
'  jiujutsu,'  which  is  a  kind  of  wrestling. 

"  Daredesuka  was  the  right  kind  of  man  for  such  a 
time.  He  went  into  many  contests  and  won  so  often  that 
the  people  talked  about  him  in  the  streets.  Because  he 
was  a  winner  he  became  the  guest  at  many  banquets,  and 
did  not  have  to  buy  any  food  himself  for  several  weeks. 
At  the  banquets  he  saw  many  geisha,  who  came  to  dance 
and  to  sing  and  to  play,  just  as  they  are  doing  over 
yonder  now,"  pointing  to  a  tea-house  all  open  on  one  side 
along  the  river  bank. 

"  Being  a  military  man,  Daredesuka  did  not  care  much 
for  geisha.  He  had  the  name  of  a  strict  and  severe  man. 
One  night,  however,  at  a  chaya  just  at  the  end  of  this 
bridge,  the  most  famous  tea-house  of  all  in  Kiyoto,  Dare- 
desuka changed  his  idea. 

"  Eikibo  San  was  the  cause  of  the  change.  She  was 
a  geisha  who  did  the  fan  dancing  most  famously,  and 
was  never  engaged  except  in  the  best  houses  and  by  the 
richest  guests.  When  Daredesuka  saw  her  dancing  he 
could  not  look  from  her.  She  swayed  this  way  and  that 
way  gently  as  a  lily  when  the  autumn  wind  is  blowing, 
and  her  fan  went  round  her  like  a  butterfly  that  she  had 
tamed.  Her  face  was  white  except  the  color  of  cherry 
blossoms  on  the  cheeks,  and  her  eyebrows  high  as  in  the 
pictures  on  these  fans.  Her  hands  were  long  and  fine, 
and  waved  like  birds'  wings  when  she  turned  about,  play- 
ing and  tossing  with  the  fan.  So  long  and  so  hard  was 
Daredesuka  looking  that  the  soups  and  fishes  the  other 
geisha  were  serving  to  him  became  quite  cold,  and  some 

[285] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

of  the  guests  near  by  were  wondering.     Then  one  of 
these  said : 

"  '  You  have  never  seen  Eikibo  San  before?  She  is 
our  best  dancer.  Even  the  Shogun,  they  say,  has  seen 
her.  Many  men  have  tried  to  take  her  home,  but  she 
does  not  listen.  She  has  no  lover.  She  lives  with  an  old 
aunt,  as  she  calls  her,  in  the  geisha  quarter,  and  never 
leaves  the  old  woman  alone  for  a  single  night,  nor  does 
she  ever  respond  to  any  callers  who  go  there  to  give  her 
presents.  These  gift-bearers  talk  with  the  old  aunt  at 
the  gate,  but  no  one  of  them  has  ever  had  his  foot 
inside.' 

"  This,  if  it  could  be,  made  Daredesuka  even  keener, 
so  that,  when  the  fan-dancing  was  over  and  Eikibo  came 
round  to  do  her  turn  at  pouring  sake,  beginning  before 
him  as  the  chief  guest,  he  said  she  must  first  drink  from 
his  cup,  and  might  afterwards  serve  him.  She  took  the 
dainty  bit  of  porcelain  from  him  and,  bowing  low, 
touched  it  to  her  forehead.  Then  Daredesuka  poured 
sake  from  the  china  bottle  in  front  of  him,  but  could 
give  her  only  a  few  drops,  as  she  pushed  the  mouth  of 
the  bottle  up  with  the  edge  of  the  cup,  saying,  '  More 
would  be  a  great  deal.'  She  made  as  though  she  drank 
it,  but  one  could  not  tell,  for  the  geisha  is  skillful  to 
pretend.  Then,  before  she  could  rinse  the  cup,  Dare- 
desuka took  it  from  her  and  said,  *  Ippai  dozo  gomen 
nasai '  ('  Full  please  and  excuse  me  '). 

"  Eikibo  laughed  because  he  did  not  let  her  rinse  the 
cup.  Then  she  passed  on  to  the  next  guest,  reaching 
out  the  sake  bottle  with  her  arm  at  full  length  and  her 

[286] 


THEFT    OF    THE    GOLDEN    SCALE 

sleeve  caught  up  between  her  teeth  out  of  the  way  of  the 
soup  bowls  and  other  dishes  on  the  mat  before  her. 

"  After  this  everything  was  different  for  Daredesuka. 
He  wished  to  see  Eikibo  San  every  day  and  all  day  long. 
That  could  not  be,  but  if  he  kept  his  fame  he  might  see 
her  at  the  tea-house  festivals  while  the  Shogun  remained 
in  Kiyoto,  and  after  that,  if  he  could  get  money,  he  could 
call  for  her  by  himself,  he  hoped. 

"  He  kept  his  fame  in  the  remaining  contests.  Per- 
haps he  made  it  even  greater,  for  he  had  an  offer  to  go 
with  a  great  daimiyo  to  the  south,  who  promised  him 
a  post  as  instructor  of  his  retainers  and  many  koku  of 
rice  with  a  home  and  servants.  Before  the  fan-dancing 
he  would  have  gone,  I  am  sure,  had  such  a  good  chance 
come,  but  now  he  could  not  travel  far  and  leave  Eikibo 
San  behind. 

"  As  he  could  not  take  her  on  the  daimiyo's  train  he 
made  humble  apologies,  and  said  that  so  great  honor 
could  not  be  his,  for  he  had  made  an  agreement  already 
with  another  to  travel  farther  north.  There  was  more 
truth  than  he  thought  in  this,  for  he  did  go  from  Kiyoto 
later  and  along  the  road  that  takes  one  north.  He  did 
not  mean  to  when  he  declined  this  offer  though. 

"  Five  or  six  times  after  this  Daredesuka  saw  Eikibo 
before  the  Shogun  left,  always  in  the  same  tea-house 
and  with  the  same  few  words,  for  he  could  not  detain  her 
beyond  the  drinking  of  a  single  cup  of  sake.  She  would 
apologize  and  say  that  there  were  many  guests  and  too 
few  to  wait  on  them,  therefore  she  must  not  stay  long. 
After  the  Shogun  had  set  out  on  his  return  to  Yedo, 

[287] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Daredesuka  called  the  geisha  several  times  from  a  quiet 
tea-house  down  the  river,  but  only  once  she  came,  for  her 
engagements  almost  never  failed.  Her  name  was  on 
some  lists  for  months  ahead. 

"  As  soon  as  the  maids  had  brought  refreshments  and 
retired  he  made  an  offer  to  her  which  almost  always  a 
geisha  will  accept.  She  should  be  his  wife.  He  would 
take  service  with  some  quiet  daimiyo  within  the  next  six 
months,  and  she  would  then  be  in  the  highest  of  the 
four  classes  of  society  and  ranking  almost  as  one  of  the 
nobility.  He  told  her  of  offers  he  had  received  and  had 
refused  because  he  could  not  bear  to  leave  her,  and  said 
he  would  accept  whichever  one  she  chose  if  she  would 
come  with  him. 

"  Eikibo  laughed  at  all  this,  being,  she  said,  familiar 
with  fine  promises.  '  They  are  all  of  a  kind,'  she  told 
him ;  *  interesting  to  hear,  if  you  did  not  know  they  were 
like  little  flies  that  live  a  day  and  then  no  one  knows  what 
has  become  of  them.'  Daredesuka  persisted,  but  only  to 
find  that  words  did  not  avail.  At  last  he  cried : 

"  *  Give  me  some  test,  for  I  must  have  you  know  that 
I  speak  truth.  Shall  I  bring  you  pearls  from  the  deep 
sea  or  golden  scales  from  the  dolphins  on  Nagoya  Castle  ? 
Only  say  the  thing  and  I  shall  do  it.  You  shall  believe 
me.' 

"  Eikibo  looked  merrily  at  him,  and  said : 

"  '  Yes,  I  must  believe  you  if  you  bring  me  a  dolphin's 
golden  scale  from  the  ridge  of  the  fifth  story  of  the 
tower,  as  I  know  well,  for  I  am  in  Nagoya  every  year. 
Only  the  birds  go  up  there.  Yes,  I  should  know  you 

[288] 


THEFT    OF    THE    GOLDEN    SCALE 

spoke  the  truth  if  you  brought  the  scale ; '  and  she 
laughed  again,  for  to  the  geisha  the  parents  of  the  truth- 
ful man  are  not  yet  born.  Then  she  added :  *  My  call 
time  for  the  Full  Moon  tea-house  over  the  river  has 
arrived.  I  beg  your  honorable  pardon.  I  must  go. 
At  the  great  matsuri '  (religious  festival)  '  in  Nagoya 
next  month  I  am  to  dance.  Bring  me  the  scale  then, 
and  I  shall  know  your  heart.' 

"  Daredesuka  sat  still  for  an  hour  thinking,  and  then, 
as  the  samurai  often  did  on  the  night  before  the  battle, 
he  clapped  his  hands,  ordered  more  sake  and  more  food, 
sent  to  an  inn  near  by  for  a  friend  who  was  lodging 
there,  and  made  merry  until  the  watch  announced  the 
hour  for  closing.  Two  nights  later  he  was  in  Nagoya. 

"  As  you  know,  those  goldfishes  are  high  up,  and  per- 
haps you  could  see  that  each  is  now  in  a  heavy  cage. 
That  cage  was  not  there  in  Daredesuka's  time.  You 
know,  too,  that  we  Japanese  enjoy  our  play  with  kites. 
We  can  send  them  very  high  and  can  guide  them  nicely. 
Well,  Daredesuka  was  a  wonderful  man  with  kites.  He 
had  made  large  ones  when  he  was  with  his  late  lord,  and 
had  once  dropped  a  line  far  out  over  a  junk  that  was 
blowing  off  to  sea,  and  so  saved  many  lives.  He  now 
said  he  would  use  a  kite  to  get  the  scale  that  Eikibo  had 
declared  would  tell  if  he  spoke  true.  Secretly  he  went  to 
work,  and  made  one  so  large  he  was  sure  it  would  carry 
the  weight  of  his  body  on  the  wind.  He  found  another 
ronin  whom  some  gold  and  the  promise  of  future  aid 
persuaded  to  give  him  help  in  his  strange  plan.  Then, 
on  a  stormy  night,  with  wind  and  clouds  and  rain,  he 

[289] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

went  up  and  secured  a  golden  scale.  But  the  tool  he 
had  used  in  prying  was  very  wet  and  slippery  and  fell 
from  his  hands.  The  guards  went  out  and  discovered 
the  kite,  which  a  rift  in  the  sky  let  the  moon  shine  down 
upon  for  a  fatal  moment,  and  when  he  reached  the  earth 
they  caught  him  and  put  him  in  prison.  The  golden 
scale  convicted  him  and  his  companion.  Being  samurai 
they  received  sentence  to  commit  hari-kiri,  and  they 
performed  the  act  serenely  before  the  state  officials. 

"  Eikibo  did  not  do  the  fan  dance  at  the  matsuri,  for 
on  the  morning  of  the  day  she  was  to  appear  an  old 
priest  found  her  body  on  Daredesuka's  grave." 


[  290  ] 


CHAPTER   THIRTY-SIX 

THE  KANJI 

I  WAS  living  in  a  charming  missionary  family  in 
Tsukiji,  wishing  I  could  be  a  missionary  too.  (This 
was  before  Gardner  had  come  to  the  Land  of  the 
Rising  Sun.)  It  was  one  of  those  mornings  one  sees 
only  in  Japan.  There  was  such  glorious  satisfaction 
in  the  air  that  one  was  quite  too  happy  to  think  of  work. 

As  I  contemplated  the  peacefulness  of  everything,  the 
joy  of  being  absolutely  idle  and  equally  as  happy,  I 
heard  a  clatter  at  the  door  below.  Then  Seikichi,  the 
hall-boy,  came  up  to  the  music  room  where  I  had  ar- 
ranged a  temporary  studio  and  announced: 

"  Honorable  guest  augustly  waits  in  honorable  recep- 
tion room." 

"  Ah !  honorable  he  does,  does  he?  "  queried  I.  "  Who 
the  deuce  augustly  is  he  ?  "  I  did  not  like  the  racket  he 
had  made.  It  had  disturbed  my  contemplation.  Why 
had  not  he  pressed  the  button  at  the  door  instead  of 
hammering  ? 

"  Honorable  guest,  honorable  name  card  has  not," 
replied  Seikichi  with  a  low  bow,  and  I  thought  the  sus- 
picion of  a  grin.  Then  he  explained  that  the  caller  came 
from  a  school  up  on  Surugadai,  near  the  Greek  cathedral. 
He  was  "  kanji,"  or  business  manager,  of  this  school. 

"  Perhaps  the  school  is  looking  for  a  teacher,"  I  said 

[291] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

to  myself.  "  I  should  like  to  see  it."  I  knew  Surugadai. 
It  was  about  the  highest  point  in  Tokio.  From  the  scaf- 
folding over  the  dome  of  the  Greek  cathedral  building 
there  I  had  seen  the  entire  capital  by  merely  looking 
straight  before  me  and  turning  on  my  heel.  Never  was 
such  another  view  in  all  the  world.  Even  the  province 
of  Suruga,  ninety  miles  away,  was  visible.  Hence  the 
name  Suruga-"  dai,"  or  terrace.  I  hoped  the  kanji  really 
was  eager  to  engage  me. 

As  I  went  down  I  heard  more  clatter,  but  I  soon  ascer- 
tained it  was  only  the  honorable  guest  calling  for 
tobacco,  which  the  reverend  owner  of  the  house,  in 
violence  to  the  custom  of  the  country,  had  neglected  to 
put  on  his  free  list. 

Looking  through  the  door  of  the  reception  room  I 
spied  the  kanji  sitting  on  his  shins  amongst  the  chairs, 
which  seemingly  he  disdained,  looking  about  for  the 
tobacco  jar  that  was  not  there,  and  pounding  a  footstool 
the  while  to  attract  the  attention  of  someone  who  might 
minister  to  his  wants. 

"  May  I  have  the  honor  to  be  of  service  to  you  ?  "  I 
ventured. 

"  I  wish  smoking,"  he  replied;  and  then  jumping  up 
he  put  out  his  hand,  saying : 

"  How  do  you  do  I  am  very  well  I  thank  you  yes  sir  I 
think  so  myself."  Which  was  rather  good  for  one 
breath.  Then  he  replenished  himself  with  air  by  an  in- 
drawn hiss  that  must  have  appropriated  a  good  two 
gallons  of  the  Tsukiji  atmosphere.  Handing  him  a 
cigar  I  waited  for  him  to  continue  the  conversation  which 


THE    KANJI 

he  had  begun  so  cleverly  himself,  but  he  needed  a  match 
first,  and  then  a  clip  to  bite  the  tip  off  with,  and  a  tip 
as  to  which  end  to  bite,  before  he  could  go  on.  He  was 
not  quite  into  New  Japan  yet,  though  he  had  made  some 
progress  in  getting  out  of  the  Old. 

"  Sir,"  he  said  at  last,  "  our  name  are  Ojigoku  Kit- 
sune.  Our  business  are  the  Kanji  of  Atama  no  Naka- 
kara  school  on  Surugadai's  top  and  our  desire  is  you 
come  every  days  for  the  teaching  by  the  English  lan- 
guages and  the  improvement  to  the  mind,  for  the  many 
scholars  and  female  ladies  and  boy."  Then  he  sucked  in 
air  again. 

By  the  way  his  words  came  out  I  was  sure  he  had  writ- 
ten them  down  and  committed  them  to  memory.  I  was 
right,  for  here  he  hesitated  and  began  feeling  in  his 
pockets  for  his  "  crib."  It  took  him  some  time  to  find 
it,  and  as  he  searched  I  inventoried  his  appearance.  His 
face  was  stubby  and  suggestive  of  a  fox,  his  eyes  rounder 
and  a  trifle  lighter  than  is  usual  with  Japanese,  and  his 
hair  was  of  the  same  length  all  over,  and  stuck  out 
straight  from  his  head  like  fretful  quills.  This_was  due 
to  much  early  shaving  of  the  poll. 

His  coat  was  of  the  full  frock,  or  "  Prince  Albert " 
cut,  the  material  was  alpaca.  When  he  unbuttoned  it 
he  discovered  a  waistcoat  that  once  had  been  suitable 
for  evening  dress,  and  also  the  upper  half  of  a  shirt- 
front  to  which  the  ingenious  constructor  thereof  had 
affixed  a  collar  and  a  bright  green  tie.  The  tie  had 
worked  round  under  the  coat  collar,  or  I  might  have 
noticed  it  before.  What  was  between  him  and  that  shirt- 

[293] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

front  I  could  only  guess.  It  might  have  been  a  liver 
pad  with  sleeve  attachments.  His  trousers  were  linen, 
but  whether  the  right  leg  or  the  left  leg  preserved  the 
original  shade  I  could  not  say.  There  was  a  marked 
difference  between  the  two.  As  he  had  taken  off  his 
shoes  on  entering  the  house  I  noticed  that  he  wore  mit- 
tens on  his  feet. 

When  he  had  found  his  crib  he  puckered  up  his  mouth 
again  and  said : 

"  How  do  you  do — er  O  ah — no,  I  am  mistake."  He 
had  started  at  the  beginning  again,  like  the  interrupted 
cathedral  guide  of  Europe.  Farther  down  he  found  the 
place,  and  read: 

"  The  hour  shall  be  paid  the  dollar  and  the  transpor- 
tation to  the  school  and  to  the  house."  A  dollar  an 
hour  and  a  jin-riki-sha  from  home  to  school  and  back 
again  is  what  he  meant.  I  did  not  agree  to  quite  those 
terms,  but  eventually  I  said  I  would  visit  Surugadai  to 
promote  the  knowledge  among  all  the  students,  including 
"  and  boy." 

When  I  said  I  would  go,  he  replied: 

"  Yes,  I  think  so  myself."  Then  putting  on  his  hat, 
a  fore-and-aft  arrangement  like  an  inverted  baby-car- 
riage, he  pushed  his  mittens  into  his  shoes,  pocketed  his 
cigar,  and  disappeared. 

While  at  tiffin,  two  days  later,  Scikichi  announced : 

"  Jin-riki-sha  from  Surugadai." 

He  smiled  as  he  spoke,  and  I  understood  why  when 
I  was  outside.  There  was  the  man-power-cart,  all  but 
the  man.  Instead  of  man  there  was  a  midget  of  the  size 

[294] 


THE    KANJI 

the  native  factories  pay  a  penny  a  day  for  now.  Quite 
useless  for  a  grade  either  up  or  down,  for  he  weighed 
a  quarter  of  what  I  did.  When  I  came  to  try  him  on  the 
levels,  however,  I  found  he  was  not  half  bad. 

The  next  time  he  called  for  me,  Mrs.  Gazell,  the  mis- 
sionary's wife,  happened  to  be  giving  instructions  to  the 
cook  at  the  rear,  where  the  midget  waited  until  I  had 
finished  tiffin.  When  she  came  in*  she  said : 

"  Your  insect  has  arrived.  He  is  buzzing  in  the 
kitchen  now.  I  hope  he  doesn't  get  stuck  in  the  j  am !  " 

From  that  time  on  Tsukiji  knew  him  as  my  "  mushi  " 
(mushi  is  Japanese  for  insect). 

Mushi  and  I  got  on  very  well  together.  Whenever 
we  came  to  an  incline  I  jumped  out  and  let  him  rattle 
along  by  himself.  On  the  way  home  he  took  me  to  the 
shops  along  the  Ginza,  where  usually  I  had  some  house- 
hold commissions  to  attend  to,  and  then  I  would  buy 
him  an  egg  to  suck,  in  the  hope  that  he  would  grow. 
One  evening  when  I  reached  home  I  found  a  professor  of 
Atama  no  Nakakara  waiting  for  my  mushi.  He  had 
walked  over  from  the  Ginza,  a  mile  out  of  his  way,  and 
had  been  waiting  an  hour  to  save  threepence,  the  fare 
from  a  Ginza  jin-riki-sha  stand  to  Surugadai. 

On  my  next  visit  to  the  school,  Ojigoku  Kitsune 
addressed  me  elaborately  on  the  subject  of  jin-riki-sha. 

"  Sir,"  he  said,  "  from  the  school  to  the  home  and  the 
jin-riki-sha  not  stopping  is  for  the  agreement." 

"  You  did  not  mention  anything  about  time  or  route 
when  you  said  you  would  furnish  the  jin-riki-sha,"  I 
replied. 

[295] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

"  Yes,  but  the  man  being  only  the  small  boy  by  the 
long  distances  are  very  tiresome." 

"  He  is  resting  while  I  am  in  the  shops,"  I  said,  "  and 
Ginza  is  not  a  very  indirect  route  home." 

"  But  he  wishes  times  for  eatings  or  he  catch  the 
stomach  illness." 

"  I  give  him  eggs,  won't  they  do?  "  I  asked. 

Here  the  kanji  disappeared  for  a  few  minutes.  When 
he  returned  he  said: 

"  Honorable  egg  are  good,  but  it  is  necessity  for  the 
fish  and  rice." 

"  But  you  did  not  mention  fish  and  rice  nor  say  I 
should  feed  the  infant  when  you  engaged  me." 

"  Yes,  but  he  have  the  unhealth  and  are  not  powerful 
to  transport  the  long  distances." 

"  Get  a  man  then." 

Here  the  kanji  made  another  disappearance.  On 
coming  out  again  he  said: 

"  Sir,  every  days  four  sen  (2  cents)  you  are  giving 
for  the  eating  and  we  are  adjust." 

"  But  I  understood  you  to  say  that  the  infant  has  the 
unhealth." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  kanji,  "  but  he  have  become 
strong." 

I  had  nothing  to  say. 

All  went  well  until  the  end  of  the  month,  when  the 
payment  agreed  upon  was  due  me.  The  kanji  came  into 
the  classroom  and  said: 

"  The  money  is  come  to-morrow  by  the  bank  for  clos- 
ing is  too  early  to-day."  The  bank  closing,  he  meant. 

[296] 


THE    KANJI 

"  You  will  come  to  Tsukiji?  " 
"  Oh,  I  am,  doubtless.     I  am  Christian." 
"  Yes  ?     You  had  not  told  me  so  before.     I  shall  be 
away  by  nine  o'clock.     Will  you  call  earlier?  " 
"  I  before  nine  time — sure." 
"  The  bank  will  be  open  before  nine  o'clock  ?  " 
"  Yes,  the  bank  is  close  perhaps  but  we  shall  do  the 
arrangement  by  the  night." 

Well,  in  the  morning  the  kanji  came:  alpaca  frock- 
coat,  green  tie,  inverted  baby-carriage,  and  all — all  but 
my  salary,  that  is.  He  said  he  had  started  out  with  the 
full  amount,  but  on  the  way  down  he  saw  some  things  he 
needed,  and  "  therefore  we  are  spend  parts.  I  am  return 
it  pleasantly."  (Meaning  presently,  for  he  had  learned 
the  sound  of  "  1 "  and,  being  proud  of  the  accomplish- 
ment, rather  overworked  it. ) 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  perhaps  you  will,  but  I  shall  be 
at  Surugadai  this  afternoon  and  shall  see  the  Principal. 
Perhaps  he  will  arrange  the  matter." 

The  kanji  smiled  and  went  away.  I  never  saw  him 
again,  but  Atama  no  Nakakara  made  good  his  deficit. 


L'297j 


CHAPTER   THIRTY-SEVEN 

THE  REVERENCE  OF  KATO 

FOR  a  man  to  reverence  his  father  and  his  mother 
is  a  grand  thing.     The  fifth  commandment  is  the 
law  of  laws  in  the  Far  East ;  folk  obey  it  with  a 
fervor  that  Westerners  can  hardly  understand.     Their 
zeal  calls  to  mind  one  of  Freeman's  words  anent  the 
chivalry  of  knights  who  made  arbitrary  choice  of  some 
one  virtue  which  they  practiced  with  such  enthusiasm  that 
it  became  a  vice,  while  they  neglected  the  ordinary  laws 
of  right  and  wrong  entirely. 

In  China,  for  example,  the  "  great  calamity  "  is  that 
ancestors  should  lack  descendants  to  do  them  honor. 
This  idea  led  long  ago  to  plural  wives  and  "  the  devil 
in  the  household  "  In  Japan  ancestors  and  even  step- 
ancestors  came  to  be  supreme.  All  other  relations  were 
trifling  compared  to  the  attitude  of  son  to  father,  and 
an  Abraham  offering  up  Isaac  would  be  a  small  matter 
beside  some  acts  of  "  filial  piety  "  in  the  Land  of  the 
Rising  Sun,  for  a  Japanese  has  sacrificed  not  only  a  son, 
but  his  whole  family  and  himself,  and  that  to  do  the 
bidding  of  one  who  was  his  father  by  adoption  only.  The 
story  will  show  this  better  than  a  volume  of  essays  on 
what  Confucius  taught  concerning  reverence. 

Years  ago,  in  the  province  of  Owari,  near  the  center 
of  Japan,  lived  Kato  Tamakichi,  a  potter.  Kato  went 

f  298  ] 


THE    REVERENCE    OF    KATO 

through  with  a  difficult  enterprise  successfully,  and  won 
for  his  countrymen  great  fame.  In  this  achievement 
duty  was  the  only  stimulus,  for  the  reward  he  knew  he 
should  receive  was  not  attractive. 

Seto  was  Kato  Tamakichi's  native  town.  In  his  time 
it  was  the  center  of  the  porcelain  industry  of  the  Empire, 
as  it  is  to-day.  Indeed  it  has  been  the  center  ever  since 
his  famous  ancestor  Kato  Shirozemon  returned  from 
China  seven  centuries  ago  with  the  store  of  knowledge 
he  had  gleaned  during  his  years  of  study  among  the 
ancient  kilns  of  the  Celestials.  And  now  "  setomono  " 
(Seto-things)  is  a  generic  term  in  Japanese  for  all  pot- 
tery and  porcelain,  just  as  "  china  "  is  in  English. 

But  though  descended  from  a  long  line  of  masters 
of  the  kiln  in  a  country  where  potters  had  great  honor, 
and  though  he  was  the  cleverest  of  the  pupils  of  his 
master,  Tsugane  Bunzaemon,  chief  of  the  Seto  Guild  of 
Potters,  Kato  was  not  content. 

A  stranger  looking  in  on  him  would  not  have  suspected 
his  discontent,  perhaps,  for  the  Japanese  face  is  wonder- 
fully effective  as  a  mask,  but  the  discontent  was  there. 
He  was  at  his  home  one  day  in  Tsugane's  house,  and 
had  seated  himself  on  his  heels  by  a  large  bronze  hibachi, 
making  ready  to  put  the  kettle  on  for  a  little  tea.  Be- 
fore him  were  several  tea-bowls,  delicate  and  beautiful  in 
design  and  of  exquisite  glaze. 

This  glaze  was  the  cause  of  Kato's  discontent.  Tsu- 
gane San  had  just  returned  from  his  voyage  round  Cape 
Shiwo  to  Osaka,  where  he  went  each  year  to  visit  the 
great  bazaars,  which  at  that  time  were  the  largest  in  the 

[299] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

Empire,  and  to  dispose  of  the  product  of  the  Seto  kilns, 
and  he  had  brought  back  with  him  these  tea-bowls. 

They  were  so  good  they  worried  the  young  potter. 
He  would  pause,  fire-tongs  in  hand,  every  moment  or  two, 
pick  up  one  of  the  bowls,  hold  it  between  his  eye  and  the 
light,  put  a  coal  close  to  it  to  study  the  glow  reflected 
from  the  surface,  rub  it  along  his  sleeve,  touch  it  gin- 
gerly with  the  tip  of  his  tongue  as  though  to  taste  the 
deep,  rich  color  under  the  glaze,  tap  it  very,  very  gently 
with  one  of  the  long  tips,  and  then  set  it  down  again  and 
become  absorbed  in  the  arrangement  of  the  fire. 

Tsugane  San  came  in  shortly  and  seated  himself  upon 
a  square  cushion  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  hibachi.  He 
pulled  the  tea-tray  towards  him,  and  taking  the  tall  blue 
cup — the  master's  cup — poured  a  little  hot  water  in  it 
and  replaced  it  on  the  tray.  Opening  an  air-tight  can- 
ister which  had  a  lid  with  a  rim  quite  half  as  deep  as  the 
canister's  entire  height,  he  took  out  two  pinches  of  tea, 
dried  leaves  of  a  deep,  dull  green  that  had  never  suffered 
from  other  heat  or  chemical  process  than  the  sun's  rays 
effect.  The  two  pinches  went  into  the  "  kibisho,"  or  small 
porcelain  teapot.  Next  he  poured  boiling  water  from 
the  "  tetsubin,"  the  iron  tea-kettle,  into  a  sort  of  gravy 
boat,  where  it  must  cool  a  bit,  lest  it  make  the  brew  astrin- 
gent. Replacing  the  tea-kettle  on  the  brazier,  he  turned 
the  moderated  boiling  water  on  the  leaves,  let  it  stand 
perhaps  a  minute,  and  pouring  a  tiny  cup  half  full  for 
Kato  San,  his  cup  full  for  himself,  drank  the  sherry- 
colored  liquor  slowly  with  a  sound  somewhere  between  a 
kiss  and  a  sigh. 

[300] 


THE    REVERENCE    OF    KATO 

Kato  San  drank  with  him,  and  when  he  had  done  the 
master  said: 

"  As  for  those  tea-bowls  from  Osaka,  what  do  you 
think?" 

"  Augustly  beautiful,"  replied  Kato,  using  the  hon- 
orific form,  out  of  the  respect  a  pupil  should  always  show 
to  his  master. 

"  Yes,  beautiful  they  are.  Too  beautiful  for  Osaka 
— too  beautiful  for  Seto.  They  are  from  far  south,  as 
you  see  by  their  bottoms,  from  Arita  and  Karatsu,  in  the 
province  of  Hizen,  where  the  Prince  of  Satsuma  settled 
some  Koreans  a  hundred  years  ago  and  made  them  teach 
the  natives  many  things  about  enamels.  There  is  good 
stone  there  for  porcelain,  and  the  ports  of  Karatsu  and 
of  Imari,  where  the  Dutch  send  every  year  for  wares, 
have  become  as  famous  in  Kiushiu  as  our  Seto  is  in  the 
remainder  of  Dai  Nippon.  In  fact,  those  southerners 
call  everything  of  clay,  Karatsumono.  They  are  push- 
ing their  wares  north  now.  I  had  a  hard  time  selling 
in  Osaka  this  visit,  and  all  because  those  low  Koreans 
whom  we  conquer  so  easily  whenever  we  cross  the  channel 
had  a  secret  about  glaze  which  they  were  fools  enough  to 
tell  the  potters  in  Hizen." 

"  Honorably  augustly  so  it  contemptibly  deigns  to 
be,"  said  Kato  San,  inclining  his  head  and  bending  for- 
ward. 

"  We  must  discover  that  secret,"  continued  the  master. 

To  which  Kato  San  assented  with  more  honorifics  and 
inclinations. 

"  In  Osaka  I  saw  a  *  nakado '  (middleman)  who  has 
[301] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

gone  to  Hizen  to  arrange  for  a  marriage  with  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  chief  of  the  Arita  Guild.  It  will  cost  all  of 
the  year's  profits  and  something  besides,  but  we  shall 
lose  our  face  if  we  do  not  discover  the  secret  of  the 
glaze." 

Respectful  acquiescence  as  before. 

"  From  what  I  learned  through  Nakado  San  I  am 
confident  of  success.  He  will  be  here  within  a  few  days 
and  will  return  with  you  directly,  for  it  is  a  long  journey, 
and  I  would  have  you  be  there  before  the  next  firing  of 
the  kilns." 

This  was  the  first  intimation  of  Tsugane  San's  scheme 
that  had  reached  Kato  San ;  it  was  in  fact  the  first  time 
the  subject  of  marriage  had  been  mentioned  to  him,  but 
he  bowed  quite  as  reverently  as  before,  and  ejaculated 
honorifics  in  the  same  deferential  tone.  On  his  coun- 
tenance there  was  no  sign  that  he  had  just  heard  he  was 
to  go  to  a  strange  country,  there  to  marry  a  strange 
woman  whose  speech  even  would  be  unintelligible.  But 
Japanese  surprise,  if  there  is  such  a  thing,  is  purely  in- 
ternal. Tsugane  San  had  made  arrangements,  and  that 
was  the  affair  in  a  nutshell.  Why  discuss  matters  that 
are  already  settled? 

In  due  course  Nakado  San  appeared  with  a  letter  show- 
ing that  he  had  done  all  as  Tsugane  San  instructed  him, 
so  nothing  remained  for  him  to  do  except  to  receive  the 
money  stipulated  and  then  hasten  back  with  Kato  San 
to  Arita,  where  the  potters  were  waiting  eagerly  to  cele- 
brate. Kato  received  money,  too,  and  handsome  gifts 
for  the  wife  he  had  never  seen  and  for  her  parents.  As 

[302] 


THE    REVERENCE    OF    KATO 

Tsugane  handed  these  to  his  pupil  and  adopted  son,  he 
said: 

"  When  you  have  learned  the  blue  and  white,  return." 

And  Kato,  with  his  forehead  against  the  mats,  had 
replied  : 

"  Kashikomarimashita "  ("August  commands  rev- 
erently understanding  am"). 

Then  with  his  guide  he  set  out,  hardly  daring  to 
look  about  him  on  the  sights  he  had  known  since  the  light 
first  shone  upon  him.  Their  luggage  was  partly  on  the 
backs  of  two  lusty  coolies  and  partly  in  their  "  kagos,"  or 
palanquins,  for  Kato  had  small  liking  to  be  carried  along 
the  road.  He  preferred  exercise.  Nagoya,  where  the 
golden  dolphins  are,  was  their  first  halt,  about  six  "  ri " 
(fifteen  miles)  from  home.  Thence  they  went  on  to 
Kokkaichi,  thence  over  the  mountains  to  Lake  Biwa,  and 
to  Kiyoto,  where  the  Son  of  Heaven,  Tenshi  Sama,  the 
Mikado,  was  a  sacred  prisoner  by  order  of  the  Shogun 
Tauna  Yoshi ;  on  to  Osaka,  where  more  business  was  and 
is  done  more  slowly  than  in  any  other  city  in  Japan; 
thence  by  boat  through  the  wondrous  Inland  Sea  which 
angels  look  down  upon  with  envy ;  on  through  the  Strait 
of  Shimonoseki,  where  allied  Western  fleets  were  to  meet 
years  afterwards,  and  into  the  "  Genkai  Nada "  (the 
Watchful  Sea),  to  Karatsu,  where  the  men  of  Arita  met 
them  as  Nakado  San  had  arranged. 

As  Kato  San  had  left  his  own  home  and  was  coming 
to  the  bride's  house  to  become  a  member  of  her  family, 
which  is  just  the  reverse  of  what  usually  occurs  when 
young  folks  marry  in  Japan,  and  as,  furthermore,  the 

[303] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

homes  of  bride  and  bridegroom  were  far  apart,  as  dis- 
tances went  in  those  days,  the  Nakado  altered  the  ordi- 
nary arrangements  to  suit  the  circumstances.  He  ar- 
ranged the  "  mi-ai  "  (mutual  seeing  or  first  look)  to 
take  place  in  rooms  he  had  rented  near  Arita  for  the 
purpose.  It  was  satisfactory,  of  course, — it  always  is 
with  dutiful  children  in  Japan,  and  in  those  days,  before 
knowledge  of  Western  ways  had  reached  the  country, 
there  was  no  other  sort  than  dutiful  in  the  land. 

It  is  true  the  young  people  sat  at  opposite  sides  of 
the  room  with  the  widths  of  many  mats  between  them, 
and  that  neither  ventured  a  word  to  the  other  directly, 
but  Kato's  fine  features,  his  clear,  keen  eye,  as  an  artist 
should  have,  and  his  erectness,  all  of  which  O  Tsuru  San 
saw  without  looking  at  their  possessor,  put  her  into  a 
most  pleasurable  confusion ;  while  as  for  Kato  himself,  he 
looked  directly  at  O  Tsuru  as  she  came  in,  and  from  that 
moment  forgot  his  homesickness  entirely. 

The  ceremony  of  "San  San  Kudo"  (Three  Three 
Nine  Times)  where  bride  and  bridegroom  go  through 
the  form  of  exchanging  each  of  three  sake  cups  three 
times,  and  drinking  from  them,  was  in  the  bride's  house 
two  days  later,  where  Kato  took  the  name  of  Higashi- 
dori  from  his  father-in-law,  whose  son  he  now  became, 
and  was  duly  registered  at  the  office  of  the  district  by 
the  census-taker  as  Higashidori  Tokuzayemon,  chief  of 
the  Arita  Guild  of  Potters. 

It  seems  that  Rei  Sampei  had  just  discovered  some 
fine  porcelain  stone  in  Idzumi  Yama,  and  the  kilns  had 
better  clay  in  them  than  they  had  ever  known  before. 

[304] 


THE    REVERENCE    OF    KATO 

Higashidori,  too,  had  added  to  the  knowledge  the 
Koreans  had  brought  over  through  his  dealings  with  the 
Dutch,  whom  the  Shogun  allowed  once  a  year  to  do  a 
little  business  at  Deshima,  Nagasaki.  His  skill  with 
red  oxide  of  iron  and  with  Chinese  and  Dutch  cobalt 
gave  him  the  advantage  that  Tsugane  Bunzaemon  had 
envied  so  keenly.  Under  the  catalogue  title  "  Old 
Hizen,"  in  the  Dresden  collection,  one  may  see  specimens 
of  Higashidori's  skill  to-day. 

Kato  San,  skillful  as  he  was  himself,  marveled  at  the 
work  of  his  new  father,  and  set  about  diligently  to  assist 
him.  Being  a  potter  born  and  bred,  he  was  soon  in  love 
with  his  occupation,  almost  half  as  much  as  he  was  with 
his  wife,  which  is  saying  a  great  deal.  Higashidori  smiled 
as  he  watched  his  new-found  son,  and  thought  what  a  fine 
man  he  would  be  when  age  came  on  and  it  was  time  for 
the  headship  of  the  guild  to  pass  on  to  one  of  a  younger 
generation. 

"  I  shall  be  '  inkiyo  '  (retired)  then,"  he  said  to  him- 
self, "  and  Kintaro  will  have  the  kilns  and  will  be  chief 
in  my  stead.  He  will  be  worthy  of  our  name." 

When,  a  year  later,  O  Tsuru  San  presented  her  hus- 
band with  a  son,  the  old  chief's  countenance  was  lighted 
with  a  joy  that  shone  more  brightly  than  the  finest  vases 
he  had  ever  made.  The  bond  between  him  and  the  son 
from  far  away  was  now  complete,  and  the  honor  of  his 
house  secure.  He  took  Kintaro  into  his  full  confidence, 
and  the  young  man,  learning  rapidly,  was  soon  well-nigh 
as  expert  as  the  chief  himself.  His  work  delighted  him, 
and  his  home,  to  which  two  more  children  came  in  the 

[305] 


THE    HEART    OF    JAPAN 

next  three  years,  was  all  that  a  human  heart  could  wish 
for.  So  absorbed  had  he  become  in  the  development  of 
the  porcelains  from  the  new-found  stone,  that  Seto  and 
the  master  waiting  there  were  as  dim  shadows  in  his  mind, 
if  ever  he  thought  of  them  at  all. 

But  a  stranger  to  Arita  passed  through  one  day,  leav- 
ing a  written  message  with  Kintaro,  and  affairs  changed. 
It  was  from  Tsugane  Bunzaemon,  the  master.  Kintaro 
turned  to  stone  on  reading  it.  It  was  a  clear,  fine  day, 
but  he  did  know  it.  A  few  feet  from  him  two  of  his 
children  were  playing  at  baby  games;  he  did  not  hear 
them.  On  the  mats  just  beyond  the  shallow  grooves 
along  which  the  sliding  doors  had  been  pushed  back, 
making  an  entrance  to  the  adjoining  room,  O  Tsuru 
San  sat  nursing  the  youngest  of  the  three — a  lovely  pic- 
ture of  young  motherhood,  but  Kintaro  did  not  see. 

He  folded  the  letter  and  went  out  and  over  to  the 
quarry,  then  he  walked  to  the  kilns,  and  then — he  never 
knew  himself  where  he  wandered  during  the  next  few 
hours,  but  his  thoughts  were  on  the  serving  of  two 
masters,  one  whom  he  had  forgotten  and  the  other 
whom  he  had  come  to  look  upon  as  in  very  truth  his 
father. 

"  Yet  he  is  not,"  he  murmured  to  himself.  "  My  real 
father,  who  died  when  I  was  so  young,  gave  me  to  the 
master,  for  he  wished  me  to  grow  up  to  be  famous  among 
the  Seto  kilns,  as  he  was  himself.  I  kept  his  name,  and 
I  must  be  true  to  him — as  he  would  have  it ; — that — is — 
true — to — Seto, — and  these  four  years  are  gone,  and  the 
end  of  them  and  of  me  is  near." 

[306] 


THE    REVERENCE    OF    KATO 

*'  Of  them  " — the  tragedy  of  the  thoughts  that  came 
with  those  two  words ! 

Kintaro  thought  things  over  many  ways  and  slowly 
as  he  wandered.  Then,  his  mind  being  clear,  he  said  to 
Higashidori : 

"  You  are  to  become  inkiyo  soon  and  retire  from  all 
active  pursuits,  as  your  honorable  years  entitle  you  to 
do,  and  as  you  have  had  the  august  condescension  to 
name  so  unworthy  a  person  as  I  to  be  your  heir  and  suc- 
cessor, I  beg  you  to  allow  me  a  short  visit  to  my  former 
home  that  I  may  say  farewell  to  the  comrades  of  my 
early  youth  whom  I  shall  otherwise  have  no  opportunity 
to  see  again." 

The  journey  was  speedily  arranged.  Kintaro  bowed 
low  to  Higashidori,  put  his  hand  on  the  children's  heads 
as  he  asked  them  which  could  strike  the  shuttlecock  the 
farther,  and  just  for  a  moment  touched  the  hem  of  O 
Tsuru's  sleeve,  as  he  said  he  must  hasten  lest  a  waiting 
junk  make  sail  before  he  reached  the  harbor. 

He  did  not  see  them  again,  nor  Arita  neither.  Ten 
months  later  news  came  that  the  Seto  kilns  produced  all 
the  glaze  and  colorings  that  had  made  Hizen  so  famous, 
and  that  the  new  Seto  had  monopolized  the  markets  in 
Osaka.  In  their  rage  the  Arita  potters  crucified  Kin- 
taro's  wife  and  his  children.  Kintaro — or  Kato  Tama- 
kichi — when  the  story  reached  him  became  a  raving 
maniac.  In  Seto  his  memory  is  sacred,  for  he  had 
obeyed  the  commands  of  the  master  to  whom  his  father 
had  committed  him.  Filial  piety  had  its  reward. 

THE    END 

[307] 


